Chapter 7

The days continued to speed by in rapid succession, and Melanie was becoming quite reckless in her sexual exploits. A day didn't go by when she wasn't embarking on another sexual adventure. She fucked her brother constantly. Frequently, she would sneak into his bedroom at night, or he would come into hers, and they would copulate till dawn.

Then, she was seeing Randy Hardman regularly, and they found all sorts of places to make love in. Once, she sucked him off in a movie theater. A couple of times, they went to a drive-in and fucked in the back seat. Once, they even made it in a phone booth!

The last week before the election had come, and Jarvis and Melanie saw even less of their father than before. He usually breezed in late at night when everyone had gone to bed, and had left early in the morning before either of his children had gotten up.

One day, three days before the election, Melanie was feeling especially horn. Randy was unable to see her until that evening, and Jarvis was out riding with his buddies.

Well, what about Brutus? She thought suddenly. She had had sex with the hulking black stud on two occasions since the excursion to town, but Brutus was a bit skittish about getting it on with the boss's daughter, and besides, Melanie had been so busy "expanding her horizons" that she hadn't had many chances for repeat performances.

She rapidly darted downstairs and out the front door, crossing around to the back of the house toward the barn, where Brutus usually hung out. Sure enough, he was there all right, splitting logs. Stripped to the waist, wearing a pair of tight dungarees that were rolled up at the ankles, he lifted the axe and brought it down with deft blows, cutting through the pieces of wood like butter.

Melanie paused to admire the way his bulging muscles rippled beneath his mahogany hued, sweaty flesh. A tremor of excitement rushed through her groin, and she called sweetly, "Brutus! Oh, Brutus!"

The big black guy rested on his axe, panting hard, wiping the sweat off his brow as he squinted through the sun's blazing rays at the pretty blonde Wilkerson girl.

"Yes, ma'am?" he said, inquiringly.

"I'm awfully sorry to disturb you, Brutus, your being so busy chopping the wood and all, but I really do need some help!"

"Why, sure, Miss Melanie, what is it you want me to do?"

"I've been collecting some of my old things to give to the Salvation Army, and I put them in a trunk, and I need to get someone strong to carry it downstairs for me."

She batted her long lashes at him coquettishly and flashed him a dazzling smile.

Brutus felt a familiar tremor of excitement flood through him when he saw the gorgeous hussy look at him that way, and he felt his cock begin to stir in his trousers.

"I'll carry it down, ma'am. Just give me a chance to wash myself off some."

"Oh, no," Melanie said, a mite too quickly, "I mean, don't worry about that, Brutus. You'll just get all hot and bothered again lifting that old trunk, and have to get under the pump anyway."

"All right, ma'am," he said, striding beside her toward the house.

Melanie's eyes darted up and down his bulging, glistening torso. Bathed in sweat, it looked as though his heavily muscled body was oiled, and Melanie's mouth watered in carnal desire. Her pussy was beginning to itch and quiver with excitement, and she could hardly wait to get to her room.

She darted up the stairs, and Brutus followed, taking two at a time. When they came to her room, she pushed open the door, and as soon as he was inside, she jumped in and slammed the door behind them, standing in front of it.

Brutus looked around with a puzzled expression on his face.

"I don't see no trunk, ma'am," he exclaimed, glancing at her.

He gave a gasp when he saw what Melanie Wilkerson was up to. She had quickly unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off and was in the process of shedding her skirt as well. The black buck gaped at the sight of the gorgeous blonde wench stripping in front of him, her luscious, creamy body glimmering in the rays of the sun which glowed through the transparent, lacy curtains on her bedroom window.

When she stood before him, naked, Melanie sauntered up to the hulking giant of a Negro and reached her hands out, stroking them over his broad shoulders and down across the jutting slopes of his pectoral muscles.

"I'm sorry, Brutus," she said sweetly, "I lied to you, I'm afraid. What I really want is a little satisfaction. I think you won't mind too much, will you?"

Brutus gulped and managed a weak grin. "I - I reckon not, ma'am."

Purring with contentment, Melanie pressed her lips against the furry, kinky coils of his chest hair, tasting his salty sweat and inhaling the pungent, musky scent of his hard-working body. She began to slowly, lewdly, lick his chest, her tongue laving across the hard, contoured slopes of his brawny torso, lapping up the rivulets of sweat that glistened on his dark flesh.

Her hands went to his belt and fumbled with it, unbuckling it. Then, she found the top of his zipper and slowly drew it down. Brutus gave a low moan of pleasure when the beautiful blonde began to draw his trousers down about his knees. Then, she dropped to her knees on the floor before him and gazed in rapture at the long, rubbery schlong that dangled meatily between his well-muscled thighs. Lifting it up, she blew hot air on the heavy hose, and it rapidly began to expand, filling out with lust-heated blood. As it grew in her hands, she began to squeeze it gently and pump her fingers up and down the thickening shaft. She leaned down and began to rain wet lewd kisses on his pungent, sweaty balls, tasting the salty masculine flavor of his scumbag, her head reeling with lascivious ecstasy.

Brutus was groaning with pleasure by now, his face contorted, his eyes closed. Melanie felt an overpowering need to taste his big whanger, to have it shoved down her hungry throat.

With a whimper, she opened her full lips and circled them into an 'O' shape, pressing them lewdly to the puckered glans of Brutus' prick. Sucking noisily, she drew the thick, mushroom- shaped head into her mouth.

Savoring the taste of Brutus' thick cock knob, swishing her tongue around the pulpy tip and dipping it into the drooling piss slit, Melanie hummed with satisfaction.

She ran her hands up the muscular backs of Brutus' legs and raked her fingers across the hard, compact buns of his ass cheeks. She began to slowly dart her head back and forth, letting more and more of his pecker slide into her mouth. Her tongue whisked teasingly over the sensitized bloated sides of his cock as it pumped back and forth, in and out of her puckered mouth.

Gulping hard, Melanie bravely took about an inch of the rigid horsedick into her gullet, and Brutus gave a low, husky cry of pleasure, bucking his hips forward suddenly and driving his gargantuan dong deep into her throat. He eased back immediately, allowing her to gulp down some air, and then began to lustily hunch his hips to and fro, feeding her his donkey-sized dong again and again.

Hell, Brutus said to himself, why fight it? The sex-starved little bitch wanted to get fucked, so why not oblige her? Her Dad was busy with his fucking campaign and wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything personal until the election was over. He decided to just relax and enjoy himself.

Gripping hold of the back of Melanie's head, digging his fingers into her long, silken tresses, Brutus began to pump his bloated phallus in and out of her mouth while the blonde slut sucked noisily, making muffled mewling sounds of delight.

"Oh, YEAH, baby, YEAH!" Brutus groaned in sensual delight, "Suck that pecker good! Suck my hot black meat, baby! YEAH!"

Rhett Wilkerson was tired. He was bone tired. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in ages. He had spent the last few weeks doing nothing but talking and talking and shaking hands and making promises and phone calls. He needed a rest.

It was three days before the election, and he was booked up until the last minute. He looked over the schedule his secretary had handed him that morning. He had to preside at the opening of a shopping mall, and then drive twenty miles to make a speech before a ladies' book club, and then another speech to a group of religious leaders.

He picked up his phone and said wearily, "Matilda? Listen, I'm going to cancel the shopping mall opening and the ladies' book club speech. I need some rest. I'm going home. Call me at four thirty and send me a car to take me to the Episcopal Church for the meeting with the religious leaders. Thanks, honey."

He slipped on his coat and strode out of his office to the parking lot, hopping into his dark blue Pontiac and speeding off for home.

Rhett Wilkerson was a strikingly handsome man for his age. At forty-two, he had dark brown hair and scorching brown eyes, set in a ruggedly handsome face. He looked easily ten years younger than he was. He had kept his body in excellent shape by hard riding and regular work outs at a gym. His two hundred and thirty pounds was chiseled in muscle across his large, six foot two inch frame, and in his suit, he was a striking looking fellow, handsome and powerful. He had a deep, resonant voice as well, and lots of charisma. Combined with his enormous wealth, many people felt that there was no question that Wilkerson would win the election, even though it was pretty clear that the black vote was leaning heavily in favor of Hardman.

Rhett pulled into the parking lot in front of his lavish home and strode up the drive to the front door. Opening it, he gave a sigh and strode inside, heading straight for the stairs.

He wanted to fall into bed and sleep for a year. He climbed the stairs wearily, his legs aching from being on his feet almost constantly all day. He was about to go down the corridor toward his room when he hesitated, ruefully remembering that he had seen virtually nothing of his son and daughter for the last week or so. He guessed that Melanie was in her room, so he decided to look in and say hello to her before taking his nap.

Humming reflectively to himself, he walked down the hall towards his daughter's bedroom and turned the knob of the door, pushing it open and stepping inside before he was aware that anything was amiss. What he saw inside came to Rhett Wilkerson as such a shock that he was unable to move for several minutes.

Melanie was on the last lap of the terrific blow job she was administering to the naked black buck who stood in the center of her room. She was slurping at his prick noisily, her hands running up and down the backs of his legs, occasionally stopping to caress and tickle his balls.

Brutus was heaving his pelvis to and fro, thrusting his rigid pecker deep into her gulping gullet.

"OOOH, Y-YES, Miss Melanie, YES! You doing it good, baby! Real good! Suck on my big black prick, lady! HELL, YOU GONNA MAKE ME SHOOT MY WAD! AAARRRGH!"

The big black stud threw back his head and roared in ecstasy, undulating his hips lewdly and grinding his groin against Melanie's face. Melanie gave a muffled moan of pleasure as she felt the stiff pole sink deep into her aching throat and begin to throb violently. Then, the first blast of sizzling jism spurted directly into her stomach, trickling down her throat in heavy rivulets.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" Rhett Wilkerson roared in a voice like thunder, his dark eyes crackling with shocked rage.

If Brutus hadn't been a strong young buck, there is little doubt that he would have had a heart attack and died right away then and there. As it was, his eyes snapped open, sparkling with pure terror, and he leaped back violently. His throbbing cock sluiced out of Melanie's mouth, still squirting thick, pungent jets of white cream. His wasted seed hurtled in the air and splashed onto the floor as the hulking black stud staggered back in blind terror, not knowing what to do.

Melanie turned her startled blue eves toward her father, her moist ruby red lips dripping with a strand of man juice, her nipples ripe and erect.

Through the veil of rage which obscured his vision and thoughts, Rhett could not shake a very definite surge of desire which cut through his lusty loins.

"I SAID, WHAT THE TARNATION IS GOING ON HERE?" Rhett roared again, his angry eyes darting from Melanie to Brutus.

The blonde slut got to her feet and smiled coolly at her father, making no effort to cover her luscious, womanly body.

"Now, Daddy, you know very well what was going on here, since you barged in so rudely without bothering to knock. I was giving Brutus a blow job, that's all. It's nothing to get excited about."

"NOTHING TO GET EXCITED ABOUT!" Rhett shouted, trembling with rage, "MY OWN DAUGHTER WRAPPING HER MOUTH LIKE A FILTHY WHORE AROUND SOME GODDAMN NIGGER AND THEN TELLING ME IT'S NOTHING TO BE EXCITED ABOUT!?"