Melissa had danced hard in the arms of her many Spanish Toreadors that were queuing to accompany her. Her head flung back against the lift as she pressed the button for the fifth floor and it was with relief that she opened the door to her apartment, poured herself a glass of chilled white wine and headed to the veranda to suck in the cold breeze from the shore.

Melissa wasn’t expecting anyone to be joining her that late at night, but as she stepped out, she glanced in the direction of sounds coming from her left.  She didn’t need to struggle to see what or who was making them. The light from the room illuminated a middle-aged woman with one hand on an identical veranda and the other, reaching behind her to feed her lover’s cock into her glistening opening.

Melissa watched her step to one side, look over her shoulder and nod to the man who was holding onto her hips. He pushed forward, penetrating her fully before turning to smile in Melissa’s direction.

Melissa recognised him as one of the men she had danced with earlier that night. A real bull of a man with broad shoulders and arms decorated with tattoos. Though it was unusual to see roses and vines on a man’s upper body, she thought.

Melissa took a sip of her wine and remained quiet, turning slightly to look in their direction and watch the action. His thrusts were firm, yet slow; his muscular body pulsing with deliberate need into the woman’s supple and yielding body. Melissa’s pussy throbbed in time to his thrusts and all she could think was –

Me too!

Melissa took another sip of wine and watched intently at their coupling. The woman’s grunts, emanating from each of his inward thrusts, caused her own lip to curl in anticipation of the woman’s orgasm.

The man grasped the woman’s hips firmly causing her to grasp tightly onto the veranda; her words echoing her approaching climax.

Melissa turned to leave the rutting couple to their orgasm and proceeded indoors for another glass of wine. Her hands fell to her mound and all she could sense was the moistness and aroma of her own excitement. Her nipples ached and were crying out for attention.

Melissa moved to the door and opened it – leaving it ajar, before rushing back to the veranda and stepping out to the orgasmic cries of the woman and powerful grunts of her lover. It was all he could to do to stop the woman fall to the floor after her legs gave way from under her; shaking uncontrollably.

Melissa recognised her climax as the kind she often suffered from – with the right lover of course and he seemed the right lover.

The man gathered the woman in his arms and manhandled her drooping yet satisfied body into the apartment. Melissa’s eyes were glued to the sperm dripping from the end of his still hard member, yet she caught his eye before he disappeared inside.

“Me too,” She whispered.

As the door and curtains were closed, Melissa leant onto the veranda and hiked her white flowing dress over her backside.

She waited with the breeze cooling her heat.

Melissa spread her legs, her finger found her wet lips and her other hand swept inside her billowing garment and clamped over a hard and needy nipple. Pinching it, she let out a groan into the night air.

It seemed like ages before her fingers were joined with the gentle touch of a hand on her smooth backside. A smile crossed her face; never to be erased and she walked carefully through the memories of her last lover that took her so expertly over a similar veranda in a similar town.

A tongue slithered over her outer lips; wetting them even more before dipping inside her honey pot. Another moan belied her indifference to the intrusion. At that moment, Melissa didn’t care whether it was the woman or him. Secretly though, she wanted it to be the woman.

A finger replaced the tongue and slid into and out of her wet slit. A hand caressed her hips and settled there for what seemed like ages; gently caressing, feeling, planning its next move.

With the finger withdrawn, Melissa brought both her hands to hold the cold metal of the veranda. A cock slipped over her lips but did not penetrate; instead, preparing itself to take her. On each stroke, Melissa gasped aloud. On the fifth stroke, she let out a satisfied and prolonged, "Fuck."

His cock was big, yet it slid into her so effortlessly and with each thrust she whimpered; her orgasm building with every gentle thrust. Melissa smiled when she felt his other hand rest on her right hip. She felt them grasp her slight curves and she felt him pull back hard when he thrust forward; making his cock penetrate deep inside her.

Shivers rebounded throughout her body, words – dirty words were uttered into the night air as he fucked her relentlessly and with such eager passion.

Melissa’s orgasm was primed, ready to explode when she heard words to the side of her.

“Me too,” said a woman’s voice.

Melissa looked to her right to see the black-haired woman leaning on the side of the veranda. A sizeable dildo bouncing in front of her thighs and sporting an expecting grin.

“Fuck her, Carlos.”

Melissa turned to face forwards and pushed back with her whole body to his advancing thrust.

“Yesss, fuck me, Carlos,” she commanded enthusiastically.

Carlos raised his game, fucking Melissa with zeal and intensity that suggested it would be his last.

Was it the woman that tongued her earlier? In her heart, Melissa hoped it was. She pushed her body back to meet Carlos’ every thrust, bringing herself ever closer.

Melissa’s body shook and her legs struggled to keep her vertical as her climax erupted at the thought of what was to come.