Chapter 4

Melanie had never slept so well in her life. Jarvis had fucked her for hours the afternoon before, and when it approached the time when their father was expected home, her lusty brother had shot four loads into various orifices of her body, and Melanie had come too many times to count.

Rhett Wilkerson had commented during supper that he had never seen his children looking so tired before.

"I just don't see how you can be tired, Melanie," he said, winking at his lovely daughter, "What did you do today which was so strenuous?"

"Oh, nothing, Daddy," Melanie simpered, batting her long lashes at him, "Nothing at all, and I was bored silly. Sometimes there's nothing that tires one so much as being bored."

She turned her eyes toward her brother and flashed him a voluptuous smile. He grinned back, and then hastily averted his eyes, concentrating on eating his supper.

"You know, Daddy," Melanie said sweetly, "Opal Wakefield is having her debutante ball in less than a month and I've got absolutely nothing to wear to it!"

"Oh, come now, honey, what about that pink and white thing you just had whipped up? That cost me an arm and a leg!"

"But DADDY, I wore that to Roberta Hampton's wedding! I couldn't possibly be seen in public with an old dress!" Melanie pouted.

Rhett Wilkerson made a comical expression of exasperation, winking at his son.

"Women! I don't pretend to understand their whims and niceties!" he exclaimed, "Why a dress is considered 'old' after it's been worn once is beyond me! Well, sweetheart, you know you can get yourself a new outfit any time you like."

"Well, that's just it, Daddy," Melanie said, "I was wondering if you'd let Brutus drive me into town tomorrow to Mr. Klinton's shop to pick out some material. I hear he just got a new shipment of silks from France, and Livia Charlston's mother is getting her dress made there."

Rhett frowned and said slowly, "Well, I suppose so. I'm flying to Oaksbury in the morning, so I won't be needing the car. But don't you go wandering about the town, now, you hear, Missy? I don't want to hear anything about your gallivanting about without an escort, or you'll be grounded for a month. Is that clear? You go to town, pick out the damn cloth, and come right straight home!"

"Well, of course, Daddy! You don't have to be so suspicious of me!" Melanie exclaimed, flashing him her most dazzling smile.

When she wanted to, Melanie could manipulate just about anybody. Her domineering father could be wrapped around her little finger when she wanted him to be. And now that she had gotten a taste of what it was like to be a free woman, Melanie's appetite was ravenous. She knew she could have what she wanted and still retain the saintly image her father wanted to ingrain in her until he had married her off.

She awakened in the morning feeling deliciously rested. Her cunt and asshole ached a little, but it was a delicious ache, and one which sent ripples of excitement coursing through her when she remembered what had caused it.

Jarvis was going to be away for the next few days with some friends on a camping trip, so she had to seek sensual adventures elsewhere.

And she had been very titillated by the sight of Brutus and Dahlia fooling around in the barn the day before. She wanted to get a look at that huge pecker of Brutus' up close.

After she had eaten breakfast, Melanie stretched luxuriantly and said to Dahlia,

"Dahlia, please go tell Brutus that I'm ready to go into town now, and he can bring the car around to the front of the house."

"Yes, ma'am," the pretty mulatto servant chirped, tripping off to find her hulking black stud of a lover.

Melanie went back to her room and put some finishing touches on her make-up, surveying herself critically in the mirror. She smugly thought that she looked absolutely stunning, and she was right, too. Dressed in a very revealing gown with a plunging neckline, made of a virtually transparent blue material that clung to her curvaceous figure, she looked sweet and sugary and very, very sexy.

Melanie heard the car puff around to the front of the house, and she darted downstairs, swinging her purse on her arm, and dashed out of the front door.

Brutus got out of the car and respectfully held open the back door for her.

"No, Brutus, I want to ride up front today, so I can see everything!" Melanie said cheerfully, dazzling him with a voluptuous smile.

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

She slid in beside him in the front seat of the limousine, and he started the motor and began to drive out of the family estate.

"Brutus, could you drive the long way, around Mulligan's Lake? I'm in no hurry, and I'd love to take a scenic drive before we get into town!"

"Why, surely, Miss Melanie, whatever you says," Brutus said amiably, and turned the car around, heading for Mulligan's Lake.

Out of the corner of her eye, Melanie regarded the big black stud with admiration.

He was neatly dressed in a white button-up shirt and black slacks, but she could see the way his burly body bulged and strained against the material. Her heart beat rapidly as a surge of lust swept through her wanton loins. The titillating idea of a forbidden, sexual encounter with a Negro made her feel promiscuously excited. She knew that her father would be utterly aghast if he ever even suspected that she was attracted to a black man, let alone actually had a sexual encounter with one. Well, she had every intention of doing a lot of things that would shock her father if he knew about them. And she had no intention of letting her father find out.

Brutus couldn't get over how dazzling Miss Melanie looked that morning in her diaphanous blue gown. Her long golden hair was thrown back and fell in brilliant tresses down her back, and her large blue eyes sparkled like chinks of sky. He couldn't help stealing a look at her revealing, plunging neckline. Miss Melanie had the creamiest, smoothest looking skin he'd ever seen and her full ballooning breasts looked like round firm melons, good enough to eat.

Brutus shook these disturbing thoughts from his mind, knowing how dangerous they could be. You start messing around with the boss's daughter, you playing with fire, fool, he told himself.

Brutus didn't know that the lovely sixteen year old wench had plans to seduce him, and was squirming with excitement.

They drove along in silence for a while, and then Melanie began to speak in her sweet, innocent sounding tones.

"You planning on marrying our Dahlia, Brutus?"

The big black stud cast an amazed glance at the daughter of his employer.

"Me and Dahlia, getting hitched? No, ma'am! Where you got that idea?"

"But you like Dahlia a lot, don't you, Brutus?"

The big man shrugged. "Why, sure. Dahlia's a fine woman. But I ain't interested in her that way, ma'am. I got my own fiancée in town."

"Oh," Melanie said, "Then, how come you have sex with Dahlia in the barn all the time?"

Brutus nearly swerved the car off the road and into a tree he was so overcome with shock. The hulking black brute was shaking like a leaf in consternation, beads of sweat breaking out on his brow.

"W-What's that, M-Miss Melanie?" he gasped hoarsely.

Melanie gave a silvery laugh and patted his huge bicep soothingly.

"Oh, don't look so scared, Brutus, silly! I was just pulling your leg! I'm not going to tattle to Daddy about your messing around with his mistress, don't you worry!"

Brutus gulped hard and stammered, "T-Thank you, Miss Melanie."

She batted her lashes coquettishly at him and said in a slightly lower voice, "That is, I won't tell him if you promise to do exactly as I say."

Brutus swept a sidelong, startled glance at the pretty but crafty blonde perched beside him in the front seat of the limousine.

"Anything you say, Miss Melanie," he muttered, still in a state of semi-shock.

"Good," she said crisply, "Because I'd like to get to know you a lot better, Brutus!"

She reached out and placed her small pale hand on his thigh and squeezed lightly, feeling the play of solid muscle beneath his black slacks. She was eyeing the enormous basket that bulged between the black stud's legs, and her pussy began to get all warm and itchy.

Slowly, she ran her hand down the inside of his leg toward the groin area, and a shudder ran through Brutus' huge frame.

"M-Miss Melanie," he stammered hoarsely, "I - I don't think you better do that. Your Daddy would be awful, awful mad if - if..."

His voice trailed off weakly and he gave a little groan when Melanie's fingers closed around the big bulge made by his long thick cock and balls. She squeezed it lewdly, caressing the gradually expanding hose of flesh through the material of his pants and making a cooing noise of excitement and admiration.

"Ooooh, Brutus! You're so big down there, aren't you? Like a horse!" Melanie gasped.

Brutus gave a low groan of pleasure and alarm as the pretty white girl's fingers fumbled with his fly and slowly pulled down his zipper. Melanie thrust her hand eagerly inside his pants. Her fingers scraped through his tight, kinky pubic patch and brushed over the thick, rope-like shaft of his donkey-sized schlong. Grasping it at the base, she fished the flopping prong of meat out of the black dude's pants and gave a little squeak of admiration when it sprang free and continued to grow and grow and grow in her little lily white hand, a huge, purple-knobbed slab of dark flesh and gristle, hot with lust and throbbing mightily.

"Oh, MY, Brutus! It's even bigger close up than it looked yesterday in the barn!" Melanie gasped, her blue eyes widening as she ran her fingers up and down the thickening stem of the impressive, rubbery pole.