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For over a year, Alise was rarely seen in public. On occasion, she met with lawyers to insure that Carl’s estate was handled in her best interest. She spent major holidays with her sisters.

She made her first public appearance at a charity event for cancer research. She was accompanied by her younger brother. She didn’t stay long but made a significant contribution.

However, people noticed that she looked stunningly beautiful; more beautiful than they remembered.

Single men made subtle inquiries about her availability for dating. Married men made the same inquiries, but even more subtle. They were told unequivocally that the Widow Braun was unavailable.

She remained in seclusion for another two years.

From the time Alise came back from her honeymoon, she’d had a personal assistant. Her name was Melissa Johnston. She was in her forties; kind of matronly looking, highly efficient and always, always had a smile on her face. By matronly, I mean she was a 5’ 10” overweight woman with a big ass, and over-sized breasts that those who’d seen them claimed were cow-like.

Although officially she was on duty, 24/7, Melissa Johnston made it clear that on weekends she was unavailable except in emergencies. Those emergencies included Carl Braun’s death. Upon hearing that Carl was missing, Melissa called on a Braun plane and was at Alise’s side in Hawai’i through her entire ordeal.

The grieving widow was too distraught to make funeral arrangements; have her husband’s body shipped home, etc. Melissa took care of all of that. It was she who scheduled Alise’s time with the lawyers, the brewery’s board of directors, and any other pertinent meetings Melissa deemed necessary.

Two years after Carl’s death, it was Melissa who suggested to Alise that she might consider dating.

“I couldn’t. You have a good idea of my finances. Where would I meet men who were interested in me and not in my money?”

“I know, but ma’am I can make discreet arrangements for you with men who are as wealthy as you.”

Yes, Melissa Johnston did know. Although not much to look at, those weekends when she was unavailable to her employer were spent in bed with the most incredible lovers: some married, some not. Some were older than her, and numerous, younger, much younger.

What attracted men to her and had attracted them to her since she was a teenager was that Melissa Johnston was a fucking, cocksucking machine. Moving her big ass, thick hips and legs, she gave her lovers an unforgettable ride. A ride they wanted again and again. Once a man got a blowjob from her, they wanted another and another. A few married men offered to leave their wives if she’d marry them. Other very wealthy men suggested an exclusive relationship, “and Melissa, you wouldn’t have to work.”

“Except on my back or my knees, right?” She laughed.

At an early age, she discovered her love of cocks. In her pussy and in her mouth. Her mouth was, in the words of one of her fifty-year-old lovers, “Melissa, I’ve been with many women, many of them prostitutes, no one does to my cock what your mouth does.”

“You have the best cock to suck. My mouth will be ready again to please you again whenever you’re ready.”

Young men, some as young as eighteen, Melissa introduced to pussy eating. Most for the first time. They discovered a taste they’d never forget: the taste of Melissa Johnston’s pussy.

Those boys would call her begging for another date with her. “Tell Ms. Johnston what you want?”

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