Ugly Duckling Ch. 02

"Melissa," I spoke up.

"That's Mrs. Harmon to you, William," Melissa taunted me. She couldn't call me Waylon more than twice in a row (in public), could she?

"Melissa," I persevered, "Kerry accused me of stealing some of your art, but since I'm a nice guy, I'll let her off the hook if you give her a good spanking - ten licks should do it."

"MAMMA!" Kerry squawked.

"Why did I let you in my house again?" Melissa glared at me.

"You didn't. I tunneled in under the wall like a mole," I sneered wickedly. "'Us' low-lives make such great ditch diggers."

"Exercising muscles is all your good at," Melissa sneered. "Which reminds me: you still haven't finished my security system."

That was a blatant lie; I had finished up and double-checked everything on Friday.

"I'm a bit busy at the start of next week," I grumbled. "I should be able to make it Wednesday."

Sonny gave a twitch then sat back down, Kerry looked even more pissed and Celine was doing an admirable job of not looking overly aroused except I knew her signs all too well.

"I was planning something on Wednesday," Melissa informed me.

"Yes, we were going to talk about the house in Tampa," Sonny interjected.

"I'll show up early in the morning and hammer out the problem to your satisfaction," I propositioned Melissa. She leveled her gaze on me.

"How long do you think this will take, Warren?" Melissa demanded to know.

"I'll work until you can't find anything left for me to do," I pledged.

"Oh Lord," Melissa rolled her eyes Heavenward, "you'll be at it all day. Sonny, we'll have to talk another time."

"Mamma, if you could ...," Kerry began.

"Kerry, as I told Sonny, we'll talk about it at another time," Melissa commanded. That was pretty much the highlight of the conversation (for me). We drank the Sherry (wine and something else I couldn't quite identify) and talked until dusk.

As Melissa was showing us out the door, Kerry noticed her walking a bit oddly.

"Mother are you feeling alright?" Kerry asked.

"Oh, I'm feeling a tad constipated," Melissa smiled at her oldest daughter sweetly. She had something up her ass alright, but she didn't need medication to solve that problem.

"Wilbur, I left my phone in the atrium," Melissa ordered me around in a cavalier fashion. "Go get it for me."

"Celine," I turned to my wife, "you had better make this up to me when I get home." I headed off on my errand because it was no big deal - and Melissa clearly wanted another moment alone with me.

I returned with the phone, fumbled the delivery then caught it in a kneeling position right before it hit the hardwood floor. As I handed it to her with my left hand, I reached up her thigh with the other. Melissa studiously ignored my activities even as I wiggled her bunched up underwear out from between her buns.

"What are you doing?" Melissa asked in a condescending manner as I lifted up her thong and took a whiff.

"Getting something to tide me over until I can return and pay you back for that knee to the nuts," I gave her my most sinister gleam.

"Don't crouch there like the worthless pervert you are," she retorted smugly. "Help me put them back on."

I gave her a lusty look as she reached down with her hand to my head to balance on as I fitted one foot then the other into her panties. Melissa caught me off guard by dialing one of her society friends and striking up an animated bit of gossiping - like I wasn't there - with my hands on both legs.

I began rubbing small circles along her calves and thighs as the panties went up. When my fingers probed her pussy, Melissa's thighs clamped shut. I twisted my left-hand middle finger in without much success. My right hand moved to her posterior and pushed that middle finger between her cheeks, aiming for her anus.

Melissa's Will was strong yet her flesh was weaker and pliant. She resorted to using her free hand to swat my head twice before I broke through. Her cunt was already damp as I tickled between her folds. Her ass held out a few seconds longer until she suddenly unclenched and my finger found its mark. Mind you, Celine had gone to the car and was waiting for me.

Also, the front door was open with a clear view to the long, circular driveway. Melissa kept chattering away as I worked first one and then two fingers inside her twat, twirling into her G-spot. I pulled my right finger back, slobbered on it with my spit then inserted it back to her butt and began pressuring her sphincter.

With a bit of effort, that frontier gave way and my finger was engulfed in the warmth of her rectum. Melissa hiccupped in mid-conversation. She immediately excused her outburst by claiming she had found a scuff mark on her newly tiled kitchen floor. Her hand went over the mouth piece as her breathing deepened though she composed herself enough to keep up the verbal exchange.

Under the stimulation of double penetration, Melissa delivered up her reward. Her friend had to be curious as to what body part Melissa injured to get that kind of muffled vocalization, but that wasn't my problem to solve. I stood quickly and without a single word, I walked swiftly to my wife's car (my ride was a beat-up, silver 2005 Ford F-150 while hers was the Candy-Apple 2012 Porsche Boxster S her father had bought her when she graduated High School).

Celine was in the driver's seat, impatiently waiting on me. Once she turned from the driveway to the street, she turned to me.

"You will have to tell me what took you so long," Celine teased.

"I could do you one better," I said suggestively.

"What is it?" Celine's curiosity was peaked.

"You could taste her," I held up my two slick finger so recently in her Mother's snatch.

"Oh, that's gross!" Celine blanched. I was certain I had gone too far and was searching for a tissue to clean my fingers with when she spoke up once more. "Is it - tasty?"

"Only you taste sweeter, Honey," I swore truthfully.

"This would be incest, would it?" Celine worried.

"How would I know?" I shrugged. "You are the only family I have." Mom died right after I entered service, Dad had never been in the pictured and I had no brothers, or sisters.

"Fine - okay, I want to try it," Celine confessed rapidly after 30 seconds of introspection.

I fed her one fingers at a time. With her suction and tongue action I was hoping I'd get a blowjob later tonight.

"How was it?" I inquired once she was done (and we hadn't wrecked).

"I don't know," she muttered. "I'm not sure what's come over me."

"Maybe it is because you want to share in my experience," I suggested. "I've described how she tastes often enough and you associate that with me having horny, rough sex with your Mother which leads to me having hot, steamy sex with you."

"Erotic transference," Celine nodded. "I can live with that. You are still going to tell me why Mom took so long in getting the Sherry."

[...]

Sunday night's love-making was romantically intense. Celine wouldn't admit it to me, but some of it had to do with the discomfort I had caused Kerry. She could care less about Sonny, but Kerry had 'cheated' in their competition for her Mother's affections and Celine had enough of her Mother's pugnacity to want to make sure her Sister got served with some well-deserved comeuppance.

Getting out of the shower, Celine turned and embraced me.

"Way, I'm going to be in court most of the day so expect me to be stressed out when I come home," she hugged me.

"How about I give you a hot oil massage?" I kissed her forehead and nose.

"That would be wonderful ... but I was also thinking that if you could do something nice for Mother we could act it out too," she rubbed her wet body against mine.

"Our affair is really turning you on," I commented.

"Yes, Way, it is," she confessed. "It makes you and Momma so happy. I know she would never let me watch and I don't want any sex tapes which could come back to haunt all of us, so this is the best thing we can do."

"If it makes you happy, I'll come up with something special for Melissa," I assured her. With that, we headed off for a deep night's sleep.

(MONDAY)

Enticing Melissa on Monday had some inherent risk, yet it played upon the cornerstones of our relationship; mainly that she hated me and thought me to be a scumbag.

"Melissa, it is Waylon," I told her when she answered the phone.

"It is Mrs. Harmon to you, Neanderthal," she griped.

"I want you to come down to my office," I kept going.

"Why would I ever want to do that?" she snipped.

"I have a business opportunity to talk over," I answered. There was a deafening pause that lasted half a minute.

"You Contemptible Bastard," she seethed with real passion. "You lying sack of crap. I hope you die, Dirtbag," she added then hung up. I had made my opening move; the rest was up to her. Sure enough, 45 minutes later Mrs. Harmon came storming into my office fully prepared to rip my damn head off.

"I'm going to rip your God-damn head off," she boiled over (SEE!). Most of the small firm I worked for was in the field, or out to lunch. We were alone in the rear area.

"So I used you," I shrugged while giving her a shit-eating grin. "You thought what we had was real? How sad," I laughed.

Melissa started crying while remaining righteously furious.

"You will pay," she raged. As she turned to leave I cleared my throat.

"Don't you want to see the business opportunity?" I joked.

"What I want to do is burn down this shitty building with you in it," she snarled.

"What is it going to cost you?" I kept smiling. "You drove all the way down here. I don't recall you being averse to making money after all."

"Just so I can laugh in your face, Shit-for-Brains," she spun on me. I acted casual as I led her around to the back storage area.

"Where is it?" she sizzled. I directed her around a corner where she was confronted with a group of very sturdy boxes formed into a Loveseat and covered in layers of blankets over travel blankets. Melissa pulled up short.

"What is this?" she gasped. I pushed her forward into the 'cushions'.

"You really are a stupid Cunt," I laughed at her.

"What?" she spun around in the seat.

"I don't want your fucking money, Melissa - oh sorry, Mrs. Harmon, I want your cock-sucking mouth, your delicious pussy and your rich, fat ass."

Melissa's mouth fell open in utter shock.

"I tricked you, Bitch," I closed in on her. "I lied to you, lured you down here and now I'm going to use you to slake the burning lust you have kindled in me. No one is going to hear us, Melissa. You are all mine for a whole hour and I'm going to make you howl."

"I - I - I hate you," she couldn't quite keep the smile from her lips. I'd tricked her using her own insecurities then rebounded her passions by declaring my intention to 'rape' her, reaffirming our roles as High Society Lady and Down Low, Sexual Deviant. Sure, I'd pissed her off by making her think my lust was fake and I was like virtually everyone else in her life - out for her money.

As far as I knew, I was the only one in her life that wasn't. Even my wonderful, compassionate wife had asked for some financial assistance, though I don't think that asking Melissa to co-sign for a home loan for our condo and aiding a law practice that helped the disadvantaged was in the same category as Sonny and Kerry wanting a third/fourth/fifth vacation house to go with their palatial home.

All this set up put Melissa in a really combative mood. She slapped the hell out of my left cheek and I barely avoided the same treatment to my right. I grabbed her jacket sleeve, spun her around and yanked it off. I was less kind to her aqua frilled blouse; I simply ripped it open, buttons flying everywhere. I was sure a feral countenance was playing across my face.

Later Melissa would tell me she was about to claw my eyes out, but my gob-smacked expression caused her to hold back. She wanted to soak in my unmitigated carnal passion. Melissa was wearing this spider web black corset combo that was working overtime to enhance her figure.

Her boobs were overflowing their constraints like two gigantic, milky water balloons. Her waist was synched tight and all her curves enhanced and smoothed out. There was even this tiny red bow between her ta-tas I'd missed during my first ogling. The inkling of blood returning to my cranium kick-started my brain. I grabbed her blue pants (which matched the jacket) and jerked them down in two rapid pulls.

"I'm not going to call the cops this time," she threatened venomously. "I'm going to get the manager of one of my construction companies to bury you alive in the foundation of one of our buildings - maybe the new waste treatment plant. That would fit you."

"You talk a lot, Cock-tease," I snapped back.

I noticed she had painted her toe nails in Passion Pink, my wife's favorite color. Her finger nails were the same way - hmmm.

"They are called words, Moron," she hissed back. "Put them together and you make a sentence. A few sentences create a conversation and that's what civilized people do - converse, you inbred trailer trash."

"I have found a better use for your mouth," I gloated.

"One of these times I'm going to bite it off and bury it in a landfill," Melissa chomped her teeth.

"Wouldn't that make you a cock-gobbler like Kerry?" I tweaked her sensibilities.

"Oh, you are horrid," she glared. I laughed because her opinion of me wasn't a concern.

I had noticed a high-cut piece of gossamer silk over her pubic region which was pretending to be panties. Her stockings, attached to garter on her corset, were black with a sheen that played with the spotty lighting here in the storage area. They had a red stripe on the back that acted like runway lights leading up to her chunky, delectable ass.

Melissa drove her black high heels into my shoulder then thigh as she lashed out. I grabbed her left forearm and thigh, flipped her squawking form over then stretched that arm out. I had prepared for this and positioned the Loveseat's back against the chain link fence that separated normal storage from the high value area. Tied to the links were two long black silk scarves with loops at the end.

I pushed Melissa's left wrist through a loop and pulled it tight.

"What the hell?" Melissa gasped. I scoffed at her efforts to keep her right wrist from suffering the same fate. I was in the superior position and stronger. "What are you doing?" she snarled.

"You rich bitches don't know how this 'violence' thing works," I whispered into her ear.

I pulled on the upper length of the bindings, spreading her arms farther apart.

"You couldn't be a good little sissy like Sonny, calling your lawyers and the police to save your sorry pampered ass," I explained. "You thought you could throw-down with me and get away with it," I picked up a third scarf from a nearby box.

"Clearly I haven't kneed you, or slapped you, hard enough yet," Melissa reacted. "What's that for?" she added when she saw the scarf in my hands.

"Open your mouth and find out," I suggested. She realized I meant to gag her and clamped her jaws shut. Melissa could have made it much worse by bucking against me, or using her legs to punish me, but didn't.

I slipped the scarf around, wrapped it over her lips and pulled back on it like a bridle. To get her to open up, I reached around and fished out one of her large, soft breasts and began to pluck on the nipple. She tried to mutter something. I couldn't make out what. I relaxed my grip on the gag.

"What was that Melissa?" I inquired in a worried tone. "Are you okay?"

"What I was trying to ...," she got out before I yanked back on the scarf and gagged her.

"Damn woman," I chuckled. "Celine is definitely the smart one in the family. She would have never fallen for that trick." Melissa snarled, chewed on the gag and bucked her hips continuously.

I was between her legs so she couldn't bring those to bear. I debated taking off her heels, but they were so damn sexy, I kept them on her. To help calm her down, I lay on her back, pulled out her other breast and began to fondle both of them in tandem. Her nipples were already rubbery-tough and pulsing with arousal. Melissa gave it a good run for about a minute then the moaning began.

"God damn, Woman," I breathed next to her ear. "How could you possibly believe I could give this up for a payday - any payday? I have everything I want - a home, a job, the best wife in the world and this hot slut beneath me." Melissa mumbled a denial of her 'slut-hood'. I gave her breasts a finally squeeze then slid off her back. I stripped down quickly as she struggled to keep me in her peripheral vision.

Next, I languidly pulled down her flimsy panties, kissing my way down as her naked flesh was exposed. I avoided her pussy and anus initially, working around them, nipping her big, soft buttocks and the back of her thick thighs above the stockings. I put a hand on Melissa's mid-back, forcing it down and rotating her hips up.

Melissa's cunt was sopping and the scent was intoxicating. She could feel me inhaling and exhaling millimeters away from her glistening mound. She pushed back gently, whimpering when I pulled back before contact. Melissa changed tactics by growling and thrusting back with more urgency.

"Let me guess," I teased. "You want me to get this over with, so I will untie you." Melissa mumbled an affirmation through her gag. "There is one thing to take care of before we begin," I stood up. "Kerry was running off at the mouth yesterday, pissing Celine off and you refused to do anything about it. I'm not going to put up with her treating my wife that way."

Melissa gave a 'Huh?' mumble.

"Ten slaps to the ass should cover it," I informed her. Melissa tried to wiggle out of the way. Down came the hand with a resounding 'smack'. Melissa jerked, her ass rippling and you could make out the individual fingers of the handprint I left.

She sniffled the first three times then the sobbing began. When I finished I knelt beside her.

"I don't give a crap what you people think of me, but you will give Celine the respect she's due," I explained. "Next time, if you don't do anything, I'll put Kerry over my knee and show her the real reason people should be polite to one another."

Melissa didn't show any sign of agreement. I hadn't expect any. She wouldn't bend to my Will yet she now knew I was serious about Kerry. The expectation was the Sonny would get something worse. Melissa tried to make some sort of statement. Since I was in charge, I decided I wasn't going there.

"Time to eat this pussy," I rumbled with hunger. Melinda tried to close her legs except, anticipating such a move, I'd already wedged a hand in.

"Oh, you are going to be like this," I joked. I reached under a blanket and pulled out a sheathed, pre-lubricated, slender vibrator. I pried her cheeks apart despite Melinda's resistance and started to work the tool against her anus.

"Are you sure you don't want to spread your legs for your white trash Son-in-Law?" I offered.

Reluctantly Melinda returned her knees to the open, inviting position they had started in. I knelt behind her, took another deep whiff of her scent then placed my lips upon her labia and parted them with my tongue. I kept the vibrator on her anus without applying pressure. I pushed up one ass cheek so I could delve deeper, letting my tongue reach up to her clitoris.

I drilled her vagina with penetrating drives of my tongue and sucked her labia tightly between my lips. Melinda began moaning continuously. She gyrated her hips around, directing my tongue to the most improperly proper places. When my fingers joined the play, Melinda began to heave with excitement. A few wiggles of the fingers brought her off and filled my mouth with her fluids.

I allowed Melinda to cool, down then began working the vibrator in. She was whimpering all over again. Her sphincter gave way gradually. I didn't press in, instead cutting the vibrator on and playing with her opening. Melinda began repeating something through her gag. It took me a second to realize she was going 'more, more, more'.