“Mrs. Davenport, are you ready?”

Delilah shook her head as though coming out of a dream.

“Mrs. Davenport?”

“Yes, Reed. Thank you. I’ll be right there.”

The clarinet player smiled. “Don’t be nervous; we’ve practiced this song six ways from Sunday. Mr. Davenport will love it.”

Delilah returned his smile. “Yes, I certainly hope so… and I hope he enjoys what I have planned for afterwards.”

Reed’s smile turned devilish. “I can’t see how he wouldn’t,” he smirked. “I’ll see you on the bandstand.”

Delilah’s fortieth birthday party had ended and all the guests had been shooed out, with only her husband and the five-piece jazz band remaining. She had conjured up this surprise for Harvey a few weeks earlier on the night she first met the band. She thought back to the day after the St. Patrick’s Day party when she had asked the party hostess to put her in contact with the bandleader.

“They were simply wonderful,” Delilah had gushed over the telephone, “and I would love to hire them myself.”

“They were fine musicians,” Mrs. Malone conceded. “But they took an exceedingly long break in the middle of the festivities. You’ll want to be mindful of that if you hire them.”

“Oh, certainly, I will.” Delilah allowed herself a sly smile, hoping it wouldn’t manifest itself over the telephone wire. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Malone!”

It took some doing—nobody knew where the bandleader lived, Delilah had to call the club where the band usually played and leave a message—but the following day she received a telephone call from the cornet player.

“Well, ma’am, you tracked us down. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon,” he snickered.

“Oh, Horny, you knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away for long,” Delilah bantered, then became serious. “But I have an idea I hope you can help me with. My birthday is coming up in less than three weeks, and I would like to surprise Mr. Davenport.”

“I’m assuming that’s your husband?”

“Yes, of course.” Delilah paused. “Mercy me, where are my manners? Did we not introduce ourselves?”

“No, but it’s quite all right,” Horny laughed. “Everything happened rather fast.”

“Quite. My name is Delilah Davenport, and my husband is named Harvey.”

“Pleased to meet you again, Mrs. Davenport. And how may we be of service?” Delilah could practically see him waggling his eyebrows over the wire.

“I’m glad you asked. I have an idea for a— well, a risqué song. I don't have the theme completely worked out yet. But if you could help me put it to music and the band could play at my party while I sing it for Harvey, I would make it worth your while…” Delilah let the unspoken offer hang in the air.

“What’s the exact date?” Horny was all business for a moment; there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he would turn down this particular gig.

“It’s Monday, April fifth. If you’re previously engaged, we can make an arrangement similar to last time.”

Horny burst out laughing. “Do you mean you’re going to polish our knobs, or you’re going to pay us each fifty bucks?”

“Well, both, of course,” Delilah stated matter-of-factly.

“I think the fellas will agree to those conditions. Let’s see, let’s see…  today is Friday the nineteenth, one week is the twenty-sixth, two weeks is, hmm, April second, then three more days to the fifth. So that gives us just over two weeks to write the song and practice it.”

“I suppose so. Can it be done?”

“Oh, sure! But we should get started right away. If there’s one thing I know, you can’t rush practice. It’s much better to do half an hour a day for fourteen days than one seven-hour day.”

“I probably can’t get away on the weekends if I want to keep it a secret from Harvey,” Delilah pointed out.

“Yes, of course, you’re right. The boys and I can run through the song every day without you to get our parts down, and if you can join us, say, twice each week that should be plenty of time. We can meet here at the club in the early afternoon before it opens.”

“Wonderful! The tune can be similar to If I Didn’t Love You,” Delilah sang the title of a popular song from the previous year.

“...I’d get somebody else,” Horny finished the song’s tagline. “Excellent. I’ll do some thinking over the weekend,” he promised. They worked out a few more details and then disconnected the call.

Now, seventeen days later, Delilah was ready. She took a deep breath and stepped out from the shadows. Her melon green dress was, as usual, sleeveless and featured a deep V-shaped neckline. The top was in a wrap style which barely held her bountiful breasts at bay. Her short black hair was styled in a bob, with a matching melon green headband. Her plump lips were painted bright red, her brown eyes were rimmed in black, and her bejeweled earrings sparkled under the lights. She nervously tugged at her long white gloves and made her way onto the bandstand.

Delilah slowly walked up to the microphone, front and center, then looked out at the audience. An audience of one—her husband—although the five band members had also been observing her approach, appreciating the view of her expansive chest as she approached and the view of her hefty ass as she turned away. She inhaled slowly through her nose and exhaled slowly through her mouth to calm herself, then nodded. Horny gave the countdown and the band began to play.

The rhythm was bouncy and playful, with the tuba and banjo providing the beat and the trombone, cornet, and clarinet exchanging the melody. Delilah closed her eyes and swayed to the music. After a minute or so, she locked eyes with Harvey and began to croon.

“You can’t deny you’ve been feasting your eyes
You’ve been a good guy, now I have a surprise
Honeydew it, squeeze my melons tonight!”

Harvey Davenport nearly fell out of his chair.

“Forget all the stars and the moon up above
I'll show you the heavenly orbs that you love
Honeydew it, squeeze my melons tonight!”

Harvey laughed out loud, remembering a seemingly innocent conversation from a couple of weeks earlier.

“Harvey, dear, it’s late. Put down that report and come to bed.”

“Yes, sorry. I got carried away.”

“And what could be so interesting?” Delilah stifled a yawn.

“Refrigerated rail cars—reefers—are expanding the viable markets for perishable fruit. Oranges from Florida arrive in New York in three to five days. Melons from California can reach New York in seven to ten days, still fresh!”

“Melons, hmm?” Delilah asked casually. “What kinds of melons?”

“Oh, cantaloupes, mainly.” Harvey flipped a page. “Also honeydew melons.”

“Honeydew melons,” Delilah repeated with a mysterious smile. “Thank you, dear.”

Harvey was brought back to the present as Delilah belted out the bridge.

“You absolute-ly think that I’m cute
And you like the fruit that I’m sellin’
You want to grope my fine cantaloupes
‘Cause my argument’s compellin’”

And then one final verse to bring it home.

“The skin is so smooth and so ripe and so firm
It sure would look beautiful covered in sperm
Honeydew it, squeeze my melons tonight!”

Harvey sat slack-jawed and stared at his wife, imagining jacking off onto her titanic tits when they returned home. The clarinet ripped off a few bars of the melody, then the cornet and trombone took over, playing in counterpoint, and brought the song to a rousing conclusion as Delilah made her plea one last time.

“Honeydew it, squeeze my melons toniiight!”

Harvey jumped out of his chair and clapped and whistled, and the musicians dropped their instruments and joined in the applause. Delilah blushed but reveled in their attention.

“Well, I’ll be!” Harvey prattled. “By golly! Squeeze my melons, indeed!”

“Thank you, Harvey,” Delilah said bashfully. “Did you like your special song?”

“Did I ever!” he laughed.

Delilah smiled. “Now, before we go home, we need to settle up with the band. The same deal as last time,” she added, raising one eyebrow significantly.

“Let me guess,” Harvey chuckled as he reached for his billfold. “Fifty dollars and a frenching?”

“Pretty close,” Delilah said with a mischievous grin.

Delilah snapped her fingers and each of the musicians stripped down until he was buck naked. The cornet and clarinet players had similarly sized penises, not too long, not too short, not too thick, not too thin. One might say they were unremarkable, but Delilah thought they were just right. The banjo and trombone player each had a longer, narrower penis. The tuba player’s penis was darker, shorter, and thicker than the rest. Delilah had enjoyed all five of them the first time they had met, and she intended to enjoy them even more tonight.

Upon seeing the five dicks waving at her like the tree limbs along Central Park West on a windy day, Delilah pretended that a thought had just occurred to her. “It would be a shame to ruin my dress like we did last time,” she said innocently. “I think I should hang it up so it doesn’t get messy or wrinkled.” Standing in the middle of the room, she peeled the dress up over her head, revealing first her sheer white stockings, then her white garters, then her round white ass and her dark triangular bush, then her broad white tummy, then her huge white boobs. One of the musicians relieved her of her garment and laid it over the back of a chair, while another removed the throw pillows from a softly cushioned divan and indicated it with an exaggerated wave of his hand.

“Such nice manners,” Delilah said as she sank onto the plush couch and smoothed the seat with a white-gloved hand. “Won’t someone join me?”

The tuba player approached Delilah, with his short, wide cock pointing the way. “Mrs. Davenport,” he said, tipping his head in greeting. “May I have the honor of squeezing your melons tonight?”

“Hello, Tuber,” Delilah greeted him in a throaty whisper. “Yes, let’s wrap these fat tits around that fat dick, shall we?”

Tuber merely grinned and spat a thick wad of saliva on Delilah’s chest. Her eyes widened in surprise for a split second but then she leaned forward to allow the slippery spit to slide down between her gargantuan globes. Tuber placed a hand on the underside of each tit and pressed them together as he slid his thick dick in between them. Delilah looked down, giving herself a double, possibly triple, chin and watched as her pale white tits were squashed by his brown cock pumping up and down.

“It looks so good from this angle! I wish you all could squeeze my melons at the same time,” she lamented, then looked up suddenly. “I have an idea. Stringer and Boner, come and stand on either side of him.” The banjo and trombone player did as instructed, then Delilah scooted her ass forward to the edge of the couch and raised her arms slightly away from her sides. “You two can fuck my tits on the outside. Get some spit on your dicks, then start fucking me under the arms.”

Boner laughed and hefted his long penis so it whacked Delilah on the cheek. She gave an exaggerated sigh. “I meant for you to use your own spit, but I suppose I have to do everything around here,” she giggled, then turned her head and caught the head of his cock in her mouth. She worked up some saliva and slobbered on the tip of his prick, then turned her head away to release it and ran smack into Stringer’s dick waiting on the other side. She arched her eyebrow suggestively and then gave his knob the same spit shine she had given Boner, all while Tuber continued grinding away between her massive mammaries.

Both men stepped in at an angle and positioned themselves in front of Delilah’s armpits. At a signal from Boner, they both jammed their peckers into the crevice between Delilah’s soft arms and the outer curve of her soft boobs, one on each side. “Yes, now I have three cocks fucking my melons!” Delilah cheered. Tuber adjusted his rhythm so that his thrusts coincided with the others’; their long cocks pushing from the outside helped push Delilah’s tits together and he removed his hands. Delilah crossed her gloved arms under her boobs to give them a bit of support and stared down at them so she could watch the two dicks playing hide and seek in her peripheral vision while Tuber’s fat cock pumped up and down in the middle.

The cornet player cleared his throat. “I don’t think there’s any more room at the inn,” he quipped. “So I’m going to have to find other accommodations.” He crawled under the couch and popped his head out in front of Tuber’s feet, reaching his hands up to touch Delilah between her legs. She tried to look down at him but couldn’t see through the forest of torsos and dicks blocking her view. He slid one hand closer until he reached the wet folds of her pussy.

“Ooh…” Delilah moaned.

With that encouragement, Horny slid his hand further and penetrated her slick cunt with one finger, then two, then three. Delilah groaned as he finger-fucked her slowly, then faster. After a moment, he pulled out and then slid his hand up until he reached her engorged clit.

"Uuh huuh huuh..." Delilah moaned longer and louder.

“You like that, Mrs. Davenport?”

"Uuuh huuuh huuuuh..." Delilah moaned, weakly nodding her head.

“She likes it,” Tuber confirmed.

This went on for a moment. Then— “W-Would you-u three c-cum on my-y tits?” Delilah’s voice was jerky as she made her request. “W-When I c-cum?”

“We’ll do our best,” one of them confirmed, and all three of them started pounding away, trying to catch up to her. Stringer and Boner were clutching onto Delilah’s shoulders for support, while Tuber had put one hand behind her neck. Horny maintained the intensity and tempo of his ministrations, the leader of the band sensing what his fellow players required before they could reach a dramatic finish in unison.

“I’m close,” Stringer called out.

“I’m with you,” Boner confirmed.

“Same here,” Tuber chimed in, putting a second hand behind Delilah’s neck and fucking her tits like a jackhammer.

Horny spoke up from down below. “Guys, try not to shoot on me, okay?” He started rubbing Delilah’s clit with more pressure and speed, watching his bandmates for any signs that the song was coming to an end.

“Oh!” shouted one of them.

“I’m— almost—” yelled another.

Horny plunged his three fingers back into Delilah’s sopping wet pussy as he diddled her clit and she began emitting a high-pitched wail. He felt her muscles contracting around his fingers and he pressed the fingertips of his other hand against her clit and rubbed with slow, strong strokes.

“Now, fellas! She’s coming!” he yelled.

“Argh!” Boner parked his pecker between Delilah’s arm and her side and unleashed a hot load of cum onto the side of her boob, and onto the back of the couch as well.

“Aagh!” Stringer did the same, shooting a big load on the other side.

“Faaahk!” Tuber blasted Delilah with two thick spurts of scalding hot sperm directly up her cleavage. His dick slipped out just as he unleashed his third shot, which flew through the air and plastered a long arc on her left tit and midsection, combining with the cum running down between her boobs and forming a giant letter D. He squeezed out another thin trail or two on her right boob as the first three loads slid down her body, pooling in her belly button.

“Eeeeeeee!” Delilah keened as her orgasm continued, with wave after wave of white heat coursing through her body and searing every nerve. The excitement of feeling the warm, sticky cum all over her bouncing boobs compounded her pleasure, and her eyes rolled back into her head as she shivered and shook. Her clit had retracted, and Horny slowed his motions gradually as she came back down from her high. He removed his hands and slid away as Delilah sank back into the couch, her juices leaking out and soaking it. Stringer and Boner stepped back as she released their slick pricks from under her arms.

Her husband and the clarinet player had been watching all this with growing excitement. Delilah hadn’t completely forgotten them. She crooked a finger at them. “Harvey, you know what to do.” Mr. Davenport hurried over, stood beside her, and bent over and began licking the slimy cum off his wife’s chest.

“Reed,” she fixed her eyes on the clarinetist. “I need someone to fuck me.”

The room went silent. Nobody had dared to dream that Delilah would let them touch her below the waist until Horny had let his hands wander. Now she was demanding that Reed slide his raging hard-on into her married cunt.

Which is precisely what he did.

“Oh, yes!” Delilah cried. “Fuck me, Reed! Harder!”

“It looks like Reed’s getting fifty-one clams tonight,” someone quipped.

Delilah would have continued her raving, but Horny had climbed onto the divan and was standing next to her, rubbing the head of his cock against her lips, and she greedily licked and sucked at it. Tuber, Boner, and Stringer sat back and watched the forty-year-old wife and mother ravenously devouring one cock while having her sloppy pussy pounded by another, all while her husband licked what appeared to be a pint of fresh cum off her quivering tits. Delilah held her arms out and Harvey licked them clean as best he could.

“Reed?” Horny asked.

“Just about…”

Horny watched Reed’s face begin to turn red, and he knew the end was near. He pulled his cock out of Delilah’s mouth and beat it furiously.

“Graah!” Reed yelled and jettisoned his cumload into Delilah’s throbbing cunt. She closed her eyes with pleasure, which was fortunate because—

“Yaargh!” Horny shouted as he began pumping his pent-up cum all over Delilah’s face. A line crossed her right cheek and eyelid, another crossed her lips, another crossed her chin. He waved his cock back and forth, dropping a line onto her hair and ear, and another across the bridge of her nose. He dribbled some onto her shoulder before slinking away so the others could get a better view.

Reed pulled his deflated cock out and watched his cum trickle down from Delilah’s ragged pussy onto the floor.

“Harvey!” Delilah shouted, causing the line of cum across her lips to stretch and then dip inside her mouth. Her eyes were squeezed shut as tightly as possible.

Recognizing the timbre of her voice, Harvey knew that this was an emergency cleanup.
Harvey, there’s a spider in the bathtub!
Harvey, the cat threw up on the rug!
Harvey, some guy just dumped a bucketful of cum on my eyes!

He whipped out his handkerchief and began daubing around her eyelashes. Delilah blinked her eyes a couple of times, then opened them fully. Now that the immediate crisis was over, Harvey began licking her face, heroically slurping up the remaining cum but starting to look a little green around the gills. He pulled back and swallowed a little burp of indigestion.

“Mercy me, Harvey, you’re a real champ!” Delilah beamed. “Swallowing nearly four loads of cum. Imagine that!” She looked down at the pool of cum on the floor. “We can probably find a towel for that,” she added.

Harvey decided that if Julia Culligan could drink over a dozen loads in one night, he sure wasn’t about to stop at four. Julia, he thought. Her cute little tits weren’t melons, that much was certain. Possibly grapefruits, if they were on the smaller side. Navel oranges, he decided. To match the orange patch down below her navel, he chuckled to himself. He knelt in front of the couch and licked his wife’s steamy cunt clean, then bent and began licking the cum off the polished wooden floor.

“C’mere, you big lug, and kiss me,” Delilah said when he had finished. Harvey lurched forward and passed the residue of five—or, if we’re being honest, nineteen—cumshots to his wife, who accepted it hungrily. After a moment, Delilah sat back and began lazily fingering her pussy.

Harvey reached out and, at long last, squeezed his wife’s juicy melons. “By golly, Delilah Davenport, you are one heck of a woman. One heck of a woman!” he proclaimed.

The others all agreed. Delilah turned to them and said, “Boys, I cannot thank you enough for making my birthday wishes come true.”

“Oh, it was our pleasure,” Stringer began.

“No, I think the pleasure was mutual,” Boner said with a laugh as he took a polishing cloth from his trombone case and mopped the remaining wet spot from the floor.

“Indeed it was,” Delilah concurred, then broke into song one final time.

“Forget all the stars and the moon up above,
I’ll show you the heavenly orbs that you love,
Honeydew it…”

Everyone joined in for the finale.

“Squeeze my melons toniiight!”