Chapter 1: The Bipolar Candle

Melissa Thomas sat down with a heavy thump at her father’s kitchen table. “OK, Daddy, you’re all cleaned up.” It was a sweltering Saturday in late August, and she was damp and dank with sweat and grime. For three hours she had been cleaning and doing laundry and other housework in the home she grew up in.

This had been her Saturday routine for the past 16 months since her father had been widowed.

Ernesto “Ernie” Fontana was just entering his ninth decade and needed her help to stay in his house. Rheumatoid arthritis had impaired his hands and knees. And after Livia’s final illness, money for outside services wasn’t available.

So, Melissa had been stepping up to help. But Ernie knew the great strain he was causing her. Mike and Melissa Thomas lived about 15 miles away in one of Philadelphia’s suburbs, where they were raising their children Matthew and Emily (“Emmie”) who were 14 and 18 years old, respectively.

Ernie’s 40-year-old daughter was an example of the “sandwich generation”—caught between caring for both their children and their parents at the same time. And, clearly, these weekend chores were a burden to her.

For the thousandth time, Melissa complained (in her mind, not out loud) about the lack of air conditioning in the Fontana house. Thoughtfully, Ernie brought glasses of ice water and a clean dish towel. “Here, Lissie, drink this and wipe off your face. I know you need to get home soon and get in a nice cool shower. Spend some quality time with Mr. Thomas, too.”

“Cheer up, this will be the last time you do this burn-the-candle-at-both-ends stuff. Emmie will be taking over ‘Operation Ernie’ next week!” Melissa could hardly wait.t

Back home, Melissa walked straight into the master bathroom, stripped, and stepped into the shower. The water temperature was just high enough to be comfortable without starting more sweat. When she stepped out Mike was waiting for her. He was stripped to the waist and guided her to the bed, where a “bath sheet” (giant towel) had been placed to protect the coverlet. Melissa knew to lay out naked on the bath sheet, leaving the smaller damp towel on the floor.

Mike produced a warmed vial of massage oil, and began working her shoulders, arms, and back. Melissa groaned happily as his powerful hands pushed and pulled her tired tissues.

“Baby, you are so good at that. When are you going to quit that dead-end lawyer job and follow your true calling as a massage therapist?”

“I think you might notice a severe drop in our income, Liss. And we still have two teenagers to support.”

“True. Ooh, that’s nice.”

Mike had moved down and was working her feet, calves, and thighs. Once he was satisfied, he moved up to his ultimate goal: Melissa’s big butt. His hands alternately squeezed and caressed her backside.

“Mike, honey, get your pants off. I want your big, beautiful, black cock. Get on me and fuck me into the mattress the way I like it!” He pulled apart her ass cheeks and spat on her pussy, then skinned off his pants and inserted the length of his cock.

He banged away at her from behind, his belly slapping her ass with each stroke. She bounced beneath him, as his cock slid along the front wall of her pussy. As she reached her second come, Mike sprawled against her and pumped out his seed, with an audible roar.

“Mike! Matthew and Emmie will hear you!”

“No, Liss, Matt is over at John’s house, and Emmie’s out with Daniel, as always. Let’s take a minute to cool down, and then go shower together. I’m taking you out for dinner, since the kids are out tonight.”

“Sounds perfect, Mike. I love you!”