Chapter 5

Rain sheeted through the sky in heavy torrents, drenching the world, and the storm showed no sigs of letting up. Lightening zigzagged in crooked electric branches, zapping lightening rods, sparks showering, and frightening everyone who chanced glances upwards. Thunder, lightning's grumpy companion, rumbled like a hungry old man. Rather than becoming soaked to the bone, Melvin and Richie drove to the cafe though it was two blocks from their building, and they lucked out, finding an empty space in the parking garage next door.

“The whole world’s getting pissed on today,” Richie said as they climbed out of the car. The parking garage echoed with the sound of pattering rain on cement. Melvin nodded. Saying anything seemed like too much of an effort; his entire body felt submerged under water, every movement slow and heavy.

“You’re a man of many words,” Richie said with his sly grin, and Melvin only shrugged in reply. They made their way to the cafe.

A cute young waitress shot them a sweet smile as they entered and led them to a table near the back corner. She had long brown hair, tied in pigtails, making her look even younger than her years. Her dark brown eyes glowed in the reflection of the hanging lights.

“Excuse me, miss. Is Courtney working today?” Melvin asked her as he sat down. Richie’s ears pricked. He wanted to hear this.

“Oh, you know Court? Actually, she called in sick today. Good day to call in, too. Not going to get too much business with all hell breaking loose outside,” the waitress said, glancing towards the windows. The glass seemed to be sweating water on the other side; layers of it slid down the windows and puddled on the sidewalk. Melvin’s face dropped. If Courtney was sick, he could forget about their date tonight.

“Yep, the whole world’s getting pissed on,” Richie announced as if this explained everything. He didn’t seem surprised by the news of Courtney’s illness, and a smug look crossed his face as if to say “I knew it.” Richie refused to believe that any woman could be interested in the likes of Melvin. After all, Richie had seen Melvin’s feeble attempts to pick up women before, and it was sad enough to make a grown man cry.

“Thanks,” Melvin said. The waitress scooted away, her pigtails flapping. Melvin turned to Richie, and Richie shrugged, the smug looked still on his face. Melvin wanted to wipe that look off so badly, but what did it matter if Richie believed him or not? Still, wiping it off would make him feel much better.

“I should call her,” Melvin said. Richie nodded.

“Yeah, sure. I mean, at least she has a good excuse to stand you up,” Richie said. Melvin didn’t reach for his phone. The waitress came back with smiles and drinks for them both, beer for Richie and ice water for Melvin; Richie thanked her and took a sip of his frothy brew. Richie and Melvin sat in silence for a moment. Thunder grumbled outside, and the lights flickered off and on in the cafe.

“At least the day can’t get much worse,” Melvin murmured. Richie seemed to peer over Melvin’s shoulder and raised his eyebrows. A strange expression passed his face. He put down his mug and pointed past Melvin.

“Don’t underestimate your shitty luck. There’s your ex wife.”

Melvin twisted his neck to glance over his shoulder. At a nearby table, their waitress was sitting Melvin’s ex wife, Abigail, and a girl he recognized as Abby’s niece, Tina. Tina was the daughter that Abby had always wanted, and she’d often comment on how she planned on molding Tina into her own image. And what image would that be, Melvin wondered. The image of a gold digging whore? Not something most women wanted to be when they grew up. Melvin turned back to face Richie, his cheeks pale and ashy.

“Maybe she won’t see us,” Melvin said with a twinge of hope.

“No such luck. She’s waving,” Richie replied and took a large gulp of his beer. Melvin turned in his seat and saw that Richie was right; Abby was waving them over with a friendly smile curling her lips. No doubt she wanted to rub how well she was doing without Melvin in his face.

“Richie, Melvin! Join us!” she called, her deceitful eyes gleaming.

On any other day, Melvin would have declined. However, this time he had something on Abby: the love juice. He knew that she’d become irresistibly attracted to him, and he could do with her as he pleased. But it didn’t seem very ethical to use the love juice for revenge on his slutty ex wife. Still, the thought was tempting. He could fuck her in the ass and leave her begging for more much like she left him after banging the lawn boy. This was not a thought the old Melvin MacMuffin would have ever had. Melvin smiled and returned Abby’s wave. Oh waitress, I’ll have a dish of revenge this afternoon, and would you please make sure it’s served cold?

“We’d love to,” he replied. Richie shot him an incredulous look, almost spitting up the swallow of beer he was drinking. Melvin shrugged, stood up, and made his way to Abby’s table, Richie a few steps behind.

Melvin had to admit that Abby looked great. She had her dark brown hair cut stylishly short just past her ears, and the purple circles that used to always reside under her eyes were nowhere to be found. Her ample bosom heaved beneath a white sweater, and Melvin wondered if maybe she’d gotten a boob job. He didn’t remember her breasts looking so big and firm before. Her teeth were white and straight; she’d definitely had some work done there. Melvin figured she must have found a new sugar daddy sometime in the past year or so; it had been quite some time since he’d last spoken to her.

“It’s good to see you, Abigail,” he said, holding out his hand for her to shake. Instead, she stood from her chair and wrapped her arms around Melvin in a big hug, her boobs mashing against his chest. It must have been cold in the restaurant because Melvin could feel her hard nipples underneath her sweater. Was she not wearing a bra? He was now certain she had gotten a boob job.

“You too, Mel. It’s been a long time,” she said, her head snuggled into his shoulder. She unwrapped him and broke the hug. Melvin’s chest felt warm where her breasts had pressed against it.

Melvin pulled up a chair and sat down at the table. Richie exchanged hellos with Abigail sans hug and sat down, gulping a long drink from his beer mug. He wished he didn’t have to go back to work, so he could get drunk. The pigtailed waitress appeared, took orders, and scurried away still writing on her notepad. Melvin noticed Richie checking out the girl’s butt as she walked away.

“Hey, Uncle Melvin,” said Tina flashing him a set a pearly white teeth. How old would she be now? Nineteen? She had grown up quite a bit since the last time that Melvin had seen her. She wore short white shorts and a tight pink tank top, a silver star decorating the curve of her chest. She had dressed for a sunny summer day, but the storm outside had ruined any chance of that. Tina’s curly blonde hair was pulled back and was held together by a pencil on the top of her head, and her eyes were a shimmering dark blue. Melvin remembered that like Abigail, Tina had been a head cheerleader during high school; Abigail had often bragged about Tina following in her footsteps. Melvin felt sorry for her.

“Tina, how are you?” Melvin said, returning her smile.

“Just great.”

“You look wonderful,” Abigail cut in, demanding Melvin’s attention. Her hand floated through the air and rested on his wrist. Her fingers gingerly wrapped around him, a gesture of an affectionate lover. Melvin chanced a glance at Richie and saw that Richie’s eyes were glued to Abigail’s hand on his wrist. Richie looked up and gave Melvin a disgusted look. Richie figured Abigail was already trying to play him like a fiddle, but what Richie didn’t know was that Melvin would be doing the only playing of anyone today. Abigail may have a fiddle, but Melvin was the composer. Melvin faced her.

“So do you. Better than I remember,” he said, turning up his charm level to eleven. He placed his free hand over her hand and patted it. In return, he felt her squeeze his wrist. It was as if they had never split up. But not really. Abigail had never been so friendly to him. In the old days, she had treated him with a mixture of disdain and embarrassment, and she had hated the fact that she had to marry such a dork to live the kind of life she deserved. What had changed since then? What made her treat Melvin like a human being for once in her life? The love juice. Melvin allowed a finger to tap Abigail’s wedding band.

“Remarried, I see. Who’s the lucky guy?” he said. Abigail’s eyes moved down to her fingers, and her face dropped, a small blush reddening her cheeks. Did she think that Melvin wouldn’t notice? Melvin was more than happy to take the chance to embarrass her, and he was more than curious at what sort of man she had roped into marriage this time.

“He’s great. A banker,” she said, covering her wedding band with other hand. Melvin pictured her husband in his head. He’d be a geeky looking nerd with a bow tie and thick glasses, a man from the same mold that Melvin had been shaped. The banker would be loaded, of course, to satiate Abby’s monetary needs, and Abby most likely was banging the pool boy or the milk man or the mail man or the UPS man or all of them meanwhile on the side. This was her modus operandi, and why mess with a good thing? It had worked before, and it would work again. If she ever got caught with one of her boy toys, she’d simply move on to the next hapless loser with a wad of cash.

Melvin felt a flush of anger try to rise to his cheeks, and he took a quick swallow of water to cool himself down. At this moment, he hated Abby. Hated everything she stood for and everything that she had put him through. She was a despicable human being; a woman who used her sexuality as a weapon to intimidate men, strip them of their defenses, and slice off their masculinity. Then again, wasn’t Melvin planning to use his own sexuality as a weapon against her? He wondered if he was no better than she was. A sick feeling wormed its way through his stomach.

“You ok, Uncle Mel?” Tina asked, concerned. Melvin’s discomfort must have been apparent on his face. He nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he said, but it was a lie. He wasn’t fine. The world seemed suddenly very heavy; exhaustion threatened to force his eyes closed. The weight of everything careened towards him, attempting to plunge him into the recesses of a deep personal hell. He made his eyes stay open. Abby smiled politely at him from what seemed like an eternity away.

A hand slipped under the table and rested on his inner thigh. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn’t Abby’s hand. It was Tina’s. The hand began to caress his thigh. He looked over at her, and a sly grin curved her lips. Her hand began to slide down further towards his crotch.

His head swooned. The memories of Abigail’s infidelity making him burn with hatred coupled with the hand of her lovely niece on his leg under the table was too much to process at once. For a moment, Melvin thought he was going to be sick.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he said, pushing himself away from the table and standing up. What was wrong with him? Dizziness almost forced him back into his chair, but he fought it and headed towards the bathroom in lurching steps.

They watched him leave. Tina sipped at her drink for a moment, rolling her straw between two long fingers, the wheels of her mind turning thoughts through mental gears. She didn’t remember Uncle Melvin being so cute.

Abigail turned a questioning gaze towards Richie and asked, “What was that all about?”

Richie shrugged, took another swallow of his beer and said, “Babe, the whole world is getting pissed on today.” As the first waves of his beer buzz slipped over him, Richie felt that this statement explained everything.

***

Melvin closed the stall door behind him and collapsed on a toilet seat. He placed his hands on opposite sides of the stall for support as the entire world revolved around him. As the world began to slow its rotation, Melvin heard his cell phone ringing. His gut reaction told him that it was the witch.

“Mel, maybe we should move up our meeting,” the witch said as soon as Melvin pressed the phone’s talk button and held it against his ear. Her voice still had that silky hypnotic effect that he remembered, and it helped to steady Melvin’s sense of balance.

“What’s happening to me?” he said. His glasses dipped, and he had to take his remaining hand off one side of the stall and push them back on his nose. He realized that he could now sit without fear of falling over.

“A teeny tiny side effect of the love juice, my dear boy,” the witch replied and began to talk in a singsong voice. “Oh baby... I’ve... got what you need... but you say you’re just a friend. Oh, you say you’re just a friend.” Melvin recognized the tune, but the witch had changed the words. Then her tone of voice changed, and she purred, “So why don’t you pop over so we can get friendly?”

“I... I don’t... what are you talking about?”

The witch sighed into the phone, “Melvin. It’s understandable that you’re feeling drained. What you need is some sustenance, and this is exactly what I can provide. At the rate you’re going, you’re going to need it before your big date tonight. Now I’ve already called your hottie lawyer, and she’s gonna swing by and pick you up after lunch. I have a feeling you’re going to need a little pick me up.”

“Uncle Melvin?” a girl’s voice said on the other side of the stall door. Melvin jumped. What was Abigail’s niece doing in the men’s room?

“Tina?” he said.

“Looks like you might be a little more drained than expected,” the witch said, and the phone went dead in Melvin’s ear. Melvin stuffed his phone into his jacket pocket. What the hell was going to happen to him now?

Tina pushed the stall door open and stepped inside. Melvin shook his head, dumbfounded. This was a surprise he had not expected. Tina’s face wore an expression of slight embarrassment and also concern.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re ok,” Tina said. “Ya know, like if ya needed anythin’ or somethin’.” Her voice had a slight southern twang, and Melvin recalled that she was from Mississippi and quite the southern belle.

Melvin couldn’t help but notice that her nipples were hard and protruding from underneath her pink tank top. Tina’s breasts were something that any man would have trouble not noticing; they were large and firm and jiggled whenever she moved. Apparently, this was a trait of the females of Abigail’s family.

“No, Tina. I’m ok, thanks,” Melvin said. Instead of leaving, Tina moved forward and placed a hand into his hair, running her fingers through it. Melvin flinched a little but didn’t stop her.

“Ya sure I can’t do anythin’ for ya? Tell me now because we don’t have much time,” she whispered in her girlish voice. Melvin should have told her to leave, to go away and go back to her aunt, but he didn’t. Maybe he knew that the best revenge he could get on Abby was to have sex with someone younger, hotter, and smarter than her. Not only that but Abby felt this girl was her protégé. Or maybe it was just Tina’s formfitting white shorts and the way they hugged the skin of her thighs and showed off her perfectly round butt.

“You’re going to get caught in here,” the logical portion of Melvin’s mind said out loud. Tina’s pink lips split open in a wide smile, and she shook her head.

“No, I got our waitress to lock the door. I told her she could watch,” Tina replied and pushed the stall door open farther. Sitting on the bathroom counter with a look of anxious anticipation sat the waitress with the brown pigtails. The waitress shrugged, her hands outstretched as if to say, “I like to watch. What can I say?”

“Well, my head does kind of hurt. I’m not sure you can help that though,” Melvin said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It was a true statement; a lingering headache throbbed behind his eyes. Tina continued to stroke his hair. She stepped forward, her legs now straddling him. Her thighs were deliciously tanned, and Melvin could see a bit of pale white skin from where her shorts had pulled up her legs. Melvin was now close enough to Tina’s white shorts to see her pink thong through them.

“Want me to kiss it, Uncle Melvin?” she offered. She licked her lips, her tongue poking through, spreading a trail of moist saliva along her mouth. She looked hungry and more than a little horny.

“You don’t have to call me uncle. Technically, I’m not you’re uncle anymore,” Melvin said. His eyes were parallel to Tina’s perky breasts, and he was having trouble keeping eye contact with her. His eyes kept wanting to dart down and examine the pink fabric of the tank top straining against Tina’s mouthwatering mounds.

“Well, can I pretty please call ya uncle anyway?” Tina said, pulling the pencil out of her hair. Her blonde curls unspooled to her shoulders, bobbing cutely, and she shook her head, her hair twirling from side to side. She was gorgeous, no doubt about it. This kid had broken so many hearts in high school you couldn’t count them all, and she was represented everything Abigail thought she saw in herself. Melvin felt the crotch of his pants tightening around him.

“Sure,” Melvin said, the word coming out like a croak from his dry throat. Tina held him captivated with her dark blue eyes and bent over to kiss his forehead, strategically rubbing her tits in Melvin’s face. Hot desire breathed fire into Melvin’s stomach, but he still didn’t feel right taking advantage of this bright young woman in the men’s bathroom. He had baby-sat this girl for Christ’s sake.

“Tina, you don’t have to do this,” Melvin said, pushing her just far enough away that his face wasn’t being crushed by her boobs. He wanted to give her one last chance to back out if she wanted if only to put his own conscience at ease. His hands were on her tummy, and he was surprised at how hard her abs felt. Tina looked down at him with her dark blue eyes and giggled like a schoolgirl.

“Uncle Melvin, I’m a freshman in college now. Suckin’ and fuckin’ is kinda what I do,” she said and sat her firm ass on Melvin’s thighs, looking him straight in the eyes. She squirmed a little, enjoying the hardness that crept down one side of Melvin’s leg. A quiet moan passed through his lips.

“Let me show you,” she said, wrapped her hands around his head and pulled Melvin’s mouth to hers.

***

“You look like you’ve been working out,” Abigail said, stabbing at a tomato with her fork. The tomato rolled away, unscathed. Abby had left her salad untouched since Tina scurried off, saying that her roommate was paging her cell phone with their numeric code for an emergency. Abby hadn’t heard the phone go off, but it was probably on vibration anyway. Ah, the wonders of vibrating phones. Abby sometimes loved to put her cell phone on vibrate and slip it up her skirt, waiting for someone to call. Unfortunately, she wasn’t wearing a skirt today and would have to find other forms of entertainment.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess I go to the gym... uh... occasionally?” Richie said, his mind floating on a cloud of near drunkenness. He’d downed three beers, and how he wished he could go all the way and drink three more. He wasn’t sure how much more of Abby he could take. Sure, she was one hot number, but he knew from Melvin’s stories what a man-eater she could be. And she was annoying as hell to boot. This didn’t keep Richie from catching himself staring at the hard nipples protruding from underneath her sweater.

Richie felt something worm its way between his legs and settle around his crotch. He wondered if the booze was hitting him harder than he realized, but when he glanced down he saw Abigail’s bare foot scooting up along his thighs. He shot a shocked expression across the table towards her.

“Does this bother you?” Abigail asked. Her elbows were on the table, her hands together, and her head rested on a temple of fingers. She raised a pointed eyebrow. Richie glanced around, willing his eyes to focus.

“Where’s Melvin and Tina?” Richie replied, trying to shake off the feeling of his growing erection between Abigail’s toes. She began to rub him through his pants. Bolts of pleasure plowed through Richie’s groin.

“Do you really want them to come back right now?” Abigail said.

“No,” Richie said with a curt breath.

“That’s the smartest thing I’ve heard all day,” Abigail replied and tightened the hold her toes had on him. She’d always thought Richie was cute, and who knew when she’d get another chance to play with him? Abigail was never one to pass up an opportunity presented to her.

Richie gripped his beer mug and took another swallow, allowing the senses of the Abby’s foot rubbing his boner under the table to soothe him. He knew this was Melvin’s ex wife and a woman that he shouldn’t come near with a ten foot pole. Only his ten INCH pole (he wished... actually more around six and a third, but who’s counting?) was begging her to make it squirt goo all down his leg.

“I’ve always had a bit of a thing for you, Richie,” Abby whispered from across the table. “Sometimes, when Melvin fucked me, I wished it was you. I pretended it was your big dick inside me, and that was the only way I could cum. I’d think about you sticking your cock between my tits and you pumping until you came on my chest and my face. That’s what I want.”

Abigail smiled as she observed the expression on Richie Golding’s face and knew that she had him. Men were so easy to manipulate. One down and one to go.

The image of Richie titty-fucking Abigail came to life vividly inside of his head, and boy oh boy, was it a doozy. He felt his cock blossom in his pants, her toes stroking him through the fabric, his penis struggling to break free of its restraints. His hands gripped the end of the table, and he blew a quick breath through his teeth.

He hoped no one in the cafe chanced a glance at his direction at this particular moment because they’d figure he was either having a heart attack or busting a nut. Richie pictured Abby’s massive, round breasts pressed against his cock on either side and a look of sheer ecstasy on Abigail’s face as he thrust again and again, his balls sliding back and forth on the top of her stomach. He imagined his cum splattering along her chest and on to her face, her mouth open to catch what it could, her tongue licking her bottom lip.

His cock spurted in his pants, and Richie felt a wet warmth spill down his leg. He knew that he’d probably have a wet spot on the outside of his pants now, but at the moment, he didn’t care one bit. The fucking woman had probably given him a foot fetish for the rest of his life.

“That was fun,” Abby said with a toothy smile. “Now it’s my turn.”

***

Tina bent over in Melvin’s face, the strap of her pink thong pulled to one side while Melvin ate out her ass with wild abandon. Meanwhile, the pigtailed waitress had pulled her apron and skirt up over her legs and was working at her pussy with both hands, one plunging fingers into her tight wet hole, the other rubbing and teasing her clit.

Melvin spread Tina’s firm cheeks with his hands and tickled the area around her asshole with his tongue. Even Tina’s ass smelled like apples; she was undoubtedly thorough with the use of her body wash in the shower.

“Uncle Melvin, yeah, yeah, lick my asshole, yeah,” Tina crowed, and Melvin obliged her, his tongue cramming into her tight rectum. Tina moaned and grabbed her calfs with her hands. Her white shorts were wrapped around her ankles in a bundle of clothing, and she planned on having her thong in the same position in a few moments. First, she wanted to enjoy the sensation of Melvin licking her ass. She wasn’t sure why, but guys tossing her salad made her so damn wet. She’d discovered this after her senior year of high school when one of the guys in her cheerleading squad had surprised her as she was climbing out of the pool one afternoon by pulling down her suit bottom and shoving his tongue up her asshole. Funny enough, the guy ended up being a closet homosexual. Shame.

Tina stood up, and her ass moved away from Melvin’s face, his mouth and chin coated in a sheath of saliva. Melvin gave her ass a quick squeeze as she turned around to face him; it was firm and supple under his palm. Tina pushed her thong down her legs, bent to her knees and moved her concentration to undoing Melvin’s pants. Her eyes moved up to look into his.

“The moment of truth,” she said as she reached into Melvin’s pants to unleash his engorged man meat. Melvin held his breath. Every time a woman was about to see his penis for the first time, he felt a pang of nervousness. The fear of rejection was not covered by the love juice, he guessed. Tina pulled out his hard cock and considered it, licking her lips. She’d seen bigger, but this would definitely do the job. She cupped his balls and brought the head of the cock to her face.

“Hey there, li’l guy,” Tina said to his cock. “Wanna be friends?” It strained in her fingers, flexing.

“I think that’s a yes,” she said with a sly smile. Melvin laughed.

She turned again, her ass facing Melvin, and gripped his cock with one hand as she slid slowly onto it. Melvin groaned. He couldn’t believe that Tina was actually fucking him. She was easily the most beautiful girl he’d ever met, and his face burned with boiling lust. He wondered if even Courtney would be able to get him this turned on. His cock strained to grow harder as it tunneled into Tina’s tight pussy.

On the counter, the pigtailed waitress gasped. She hadn’t ever been this wet before, and the sight of the cute little curly haired blonde fucking the stud with the glasses in a reverse cowgirl position was almost too much to bear. Her fingers gained momentum, twirling and thrusting into her. She ground her teeth, the sensation from her fingers unbearably and unbelievably hot in her pussy.

Melvin’s eyes focused on Tina’s round ass clenching and unclenching and smacking against his thighs as she fucked him. At intervals, he could see his hard cock disappearing into her and then sliding out and then disappearing back into her as she slammed into him again. Her pussy was a perfect balance of tight and wet, and Melvin became overwhelmed by the feel of her.

He scooted one hand up her spine, stroking her back, feeling the sweat the began to accumulate there under his fingers. All he could see of her head was a mop of curly blonde hair bobbing cutely as she bounced on top of him. He moved his other hand up the curve of her hip and stomach and cupped her smooth breast. It wiggled under his hand as she bucked on him, and her tit was large enough to be more than just a handful. Melvin squeezed it, and Tina squealed in pleasure.

Soon Tina felt a flurry of tingles absorb her body. It began at the tips of her fingers and ends of her toes, and she had to place her hands against the sides of the stall for support. The tingles tickled up her arms and legs in waves, blanketing her in an ocean of trembling passion. She felt her orgasm build and build, her breaths becoming sharp and ragged, and then it swept over her, her eyes flying open, her mouth gasping for air as her body shook wildly in ecstasy.

The pigtailed waitress moaned from her perch on the bathroom counter, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

“Oh shit, Uncle Melvin, yeah!” Tina gasped in her trembling southern accent. She continued to shiver as she came on his throbbing cock. Her voice signaled the end for Melvin. The realization of who he was fucking, how and where and the fact that a stranger was watching them lit a fuse in his balls that ended with his erection spewing a fountain of cum into Tina’s spasming vaginal walls. He issued a long sigh through his teeth, blowing the hair up off Tina’s tanned shoulders.

Tina leaned back into him as their orgasms weakened and their sense was restored. Melvin felt his cock begin to wilt inside of her. Tina touched the side of his face with her hands. Her palms were soft and cool.

“Those college boys ain’t got nothin’ on you, Uncle Melvin,” she said and giggled. Melvin would have replied that no woman in the history of the world would ever have a thing on Tina, but he couldn’t find the strength to say anything. His tongue was dead in his mouth.

***

Richie’s big toe rubbed the inside of Abby’s slick pussy when he saw Tina returning to their table. He pulled it back suddenly, and Abby threw him a glare of disdain. She squirmed in angst.

“Tina,” he croaked, sitting up straight in his chair. Abby turned, caught the sight of Tina walking back towards them, and flashed her niece a bright smile. She straightened her panties. Richie kept his face down as slipped on his sock under the table and pried his foot back into his shoe.

“What happened?” Abby said to Tina as Tina sat down and scooted in her chair. Tina’s eyebrows raised, and she wore a look of confusion for a moment. Then realization hit her.

“Oh, with my roommate? Nothing. You know how Ashley can be. She’d lost her purse with all her credit cards, ya know? And I had to like verbally walk her through the apartment, helpin’ her find it.”

“You look a little flushed,” Abby said, swooping a bite of salad into her mouth with her fork. Tina narrowed her eyes, wondering how much her aunt might have figured out. Probably not much. Tina had ever considered her aunt to be the sharpest knife in the drawer... just the horniest.

“Well, it was an excitin’ conversation. You look flushed yourself,” Tina said. Abby shrugged, stabbing at a pile of lettuce.

“Storm must be making me nervous.”

“The whole world’s getting pissed on today,” Richie chimed in and finished off his beer. Tina and Abby both turned to look at him. He focused on the windows; he wasn’t sure if he could meet Tina’s eyes without blushing. The rain was still coming down hard. Tina and Abby exchanged glances, and Abby shrugged.

“Reasons not to drink,” she said, motioning towards Richie with her hand.

“What I miss?” asked Melvin as he made his way back to the table. He’d taken his time to make sure he’d put himself together before going back to lunch, and he felt that he and Tina had done a good job of it. If anything, his tie was on straighter now than when he had left to go to the bathroom. Everyone turned to look at him.

“Feeling better?” Richie said as Melvin took his seat. Melvin nodded, and it crossed his mind that Richie was wearing a strange expression on his face as if he had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Melvin wondered what Abby had been up to while Tina and he were gone.

“Much better,” Melvin said, and he reached for his ice water. He caught a glance of Tina smiling at the corner of his eye. The pigtailed waitress showed up a moment later to bring everyone their entrees, asked if they needed anything else, and then vanished behind the kitchen door. Melvin and Tina glanced at each other as the waitress left. There was a certain color to her cheeks that had not been there before. Melvin noticed that neither Abigail or Richie asked the waitress where she had been for the last twenty minutes.

They sat and ate their lunch over small talk and polite conversation. Though having trouble keeping his mind sharp, Melvin observed that Richie was having trouble meeting everyone’s eyes, and Abigail seemed very smug towards him. Tina seemed bored but kept sending sly glances in his direction whenever she thought that Abby wasn’t looking. Melvin saw all of this through faltering eyes. All he could really think about was getting into his office, putting his head on his desk, and falling asleep. What had the witch said about being drained? He sure as hell felt drained of every last drop of energy. They finished eating, and Melvin glanced pointedly at his watch.

“Looks like we got to get back. Eh, Richie?”

Richie nodded vigorously, “Yep. Time to work.”

“We’ll walk you out,” Abby suggested and grabbed her coat. Melvin knew that she was up to something and had a good idea of what it might be. He wondered what it would be like to be on the other side of the coin for once. To be the man cheated with instead of the man cheated on. Sounded kinda nice.

As they made their way towards the door, Abigail pulled Melvin’s arm, putting them a step back behind both Tina and Richie. She looked at him with sharp eyes. A wicked grin curved the corners of her mouth.

“So, Mel. Are you sure you got to get right back? I mean, well... we could catch up on old times. We could get a room nearby where we could, you know, make up for lost time,” she said, rubbing his arm. Her breast pressed against his forearm as she leaned into him. It was not an unpleasant sensation.

He considered it for a moment. This was his chance for revenge, wasn’t it? To use Abby the way she had used him and then treat her like garbage. But the thought of fucking her just didn’t appeal to him. She disgusted him, not turned him on. And did he really want to be on the same level as the lawn boy that had destroyed every last shred of his dignity, every last sliver of confidence he’d ever had? Melvin realized that the only way to get revenge on Abigail would be to reject her as she had rejected him. She’d fucked some kid, left him and moved on to the next cash cow she could dig her filthy claws into and suck out dollar bills while probably fucking other kids. Now, he would reject her and move on with his life, putting her behind him forever. He wanted nothing to do with her, ever again.

“I don’t think so. But tell your husband that I say hi and to get out while he has some pride left,” Melvin said, pulled free of Abigail’s arm, and walked away.

Her mouth dropped open, and she was so shocked, she didn’t even hear Tina stifling a bark of laughter.

***

“Are you ok?” Richie asked from what seemed like the other side of the world. Melvin didn’t answer; instead, he grabbed at the concrete wall of the parking garage to break his fall as his knees buckled. Stars flittered in front of his eyes, and he couldn’t breath.

A car pulled up next to them. The door opened.

“Get him in,” a woman’s voice said. It sounded like Bridget Briswell, his lawyer. But how did she know where he was?

“Brenda?” Richie asked.

“No, stupid ass. I’m Bridget. Help me get him in the car.” Melvin felt hands grip him under his armpits, and the world went black.

Melvin swam up a sea of blackness towards his conscious self. The oily darkness peeled away as he reached the surface, his arms reaching for the light above him, but some of black clung to his brain like sludge and kept his thoughts slow and labored. Melvin tried to shake it off.

The first thing he recognized was the vibrating hum of a car engine rattling his teeth. His eyes fluttered open, and he saw that he was strapped into the passenger seat, the seat belt fastened across his chest and digging into the flesh at the bottom of his neck. His head felt heavy, and it took an effort to lift it and turn. He saw that Bridget was driving. Was he in her car? He struggled to remember how he had gotten there.

Bridget Briswell gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, her eyes squinting to peer past the heavy rain pattering the windshield.

"What's going on?" Melvin murmured through thick lips.

"Your friend called me, the one you think's a witch, and she wanted... dammit!" Bridget swerved past a braking truck, the wheels of her car skidding across a patch of standing water and finding road. "She wanted me to take you to her. Said it was an emergency."

"I don't understand," Melvin said in a small voice, more to himself than Bridget. Bits of his last conversation with the witch settled in his mind: "What you need is some sustenance, and this is exactly what I can provide."

"Me neither," Bridget said, breaking his train of thought. She turned her head just enough to see Melvin out of the corner of her eye. "How're you feeling?"

"Much better," Melvin replied.

Then he promptly passed out, his forehead collapsing into the dashboard with a meaty thump.

***

Melvin dreamed of Abigail. He'd been in love with her once. She'd meant everything to him, and he dreamed of her as she was in the past. She wore a white summer dress, and both of them sat on a checkered table cloth, paper plates and half-eaten food scattered, a wicker picnic basket nearby emptied of its contents. Her hair had been long then and dark, more black than brown; it flowed around her shoulders in an afternoon breeze.

In reality, they'd never had a picnic so perfect, and Abby had never smiled so brightly, her pearly white teeth gleaming as she uttered a loud laugh, but this was a dream. She'd lived in his mind like this for a long time, intelligent and beautiful and as in love with him as he was with her.

Melvin had only realized too late all of that was a naive dream as well.

In the dream, Abigail placed her hand on his wrist and looked deep into his eyes. Her own were an amber reflecting the golden rays of the sun. It was all too easy to fall in love with a woman with eyes like hers.

"Do you love me?" she said.

"Yes," Melvin said without hesitation.

"Do you want me?"

"Yes."

"Then give me your testicles," she said. Melvin's eyes widened.

"What? Why?"

"If you want sexual pleasure, give me your testicles."

"What's the point of sexual pleasure if I have no testicles?" Melvin asked.

"Look, do you want sexual pleasure or not?"

Melvin considered this a moment, looking Abigail over. Was she worth emasculation? He could always get his testicles back, couldn't he? Her breasts were supple, her stomach flat and smooth, her legs long and luscious. But it was her eyes that made up his mind for him.

"Yes," he said. He reached into his trousers and unclipped his testicles from the rest of his body as if they were nothing more than a strangely shaped clip-on tie underneath his penis. He held them out to Abigail, and she took them and stuffed them down the front of her shirt, apparently somewhere in her bra.

"Now, can I have sexual pleasure?" Melvin asked. Abby nodded and pulled off his pants. Melvin's penis was limp and flaccid in the yellow glow of the sun, and as much as Abigail worked at it, Melvin could not get an erection.

"What is wrong with you?" Abigail asked with a look of disgust.

"I... well, maybe if I had my testicles..."

"No, they're mine now. You'll have to do without them."

"But I can't function sexually," Melvin tried to explain.

Abigail shrugged, "Not my fault." She continued to flog away at Melvin's penis like a woman possessed but had no success. She stuck it in her mouth and gave it some desperate sucks. Melvin's penis still did not respond.

"I'm sorry. I can't. I can't get it up."

"Impotent loser," Abigail said, flinging Melvin's soft penis out of her hands, and she stood up. She smoothed the wrinkles out of dress with her hands and then looked at Melvin.

"See ya, sucker!" she yelled and took off, Melvin's testicles still stuffed down the front of her shirt.

***

Richie Golding sat at his desk, attempting to concentrate on his work. His fingers sat on the keyboard, immobile and useless, and he stared at the computer monitor with a blank look. Lunch had been an exercise into the surreal, and he still wasn't sure if he understood what was going on with Melvin. How'd he get mixed up with Brenda Briswell's twin sister, and why did she stick him in her car and take off? Where was she taking him? Perhaps these questions and more could be answered during Richie's date tonight with Brenda.

The whole situation gave him a bad feeling.

Then Richie saw Abigail, Melvin's ex wife, and his bad feeling got worse. She slipped out of the elevator and worked her way towards Melvin's office, her hips swaying and her ass working in her tight blue jeans, garnering a few admiring looks from men on the floor. Richie knew that Melvin thankfully wasn't in his office and figured he'd better find out what Abigail was doing there. Richie had a good idea. Abigail wasn't the kind of woman who accepted rejection and went on her merry way; she was going to attempt for the second time that day to get Melvin to fuck her. Good thing Melvin had been spirited it off by Brenda's sister.

Richie peered to his right and left and didn't see anyone looking. He stood up from his desk and walking as quickly as he could without risking unwanted attention, he followed Abigail into Melvin's office. He closed the door behind him with a click of the lock, and startled, Abigail swung around to face him.

"Where's Mel?" she asked, swishing her short brown hair to one side with a toss of her neck. Abigail seemed to have already forgotten she'd just gotten Richie off less than an hour ago; they were back in acquaintance mode.

"In church, thanking God he's not married to you anymore," Richie replied with a large grin. Advantage Golding, he thought. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms over his chest. Abigail was on his turf now, and his beer buzz from lunch had mostly worn off.

"And what are YOU doing here?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

"I wanted to apologize to Melvin. I'm not a total bitch, you know."

"Sure, whatever. Well, as you have eyes and as I assume you can use them to see, you can see for yourself that Melvin isn't here at the moment. He wasn't feeling well actually, and a hot blonde took him away to kiss everything that hurt and make him feel better. You're a little too late," Richie said, flashing Abigail his most smug look. Her face soured. She was the kind of woman who could go from heavenly beautiful to hellishly ugly in a split second.

"Don't fuck with me, Richard. We can be friends or enemies, and you sure as shit don't want Abigail Sanderson as your enemy," she spat at him like a snake spewing venom. Richie pretended to wipe her saliva off his face.

"Sanderson, eh? I wonder how long that one'll last," he retorted and snorted a cynical laugh. Abigail frowned at him and placed her hands on her hips. The comment cut a bit because she often asked herself the same question.

"Listen, Golding. Just tell me where Melvin is, ok?"

"Hmm. Maybe we can work something out," Richie said. Abigail looked at him suspiciously. She bit her lip.

"What do you mean?" she said after a moment.

"Maybe if you get on your knees, crawl over here and suck my cock, I'll THINK about telling you where Melvin is," Richie said and unzipped his pants. He then put his hands behind his head, leaned back against the door and shrugged.

"The ball's in your court," he said, his fly hanging open. Abigail's face narrowed, but she already had made up her mind what she would do. She always knew that Richie was a bit of a weasel, that he'd turn on anyone to get his "wicky sticky", and she was turned on by his scummy attempt to get her to suck his dick. Plus, she loved to be treated like a whore; it had something to do with the Puritanical way she'd been brought up, thoughts of sex forbidden until she'd escaped from home to a wild life at college.

"How do I know you'll tell me where he is if I do?" she said.

"If you're good, you don't have anything to worry about," Richie said. His cock was as hard as a rock in his pants. Abigail was smokin' hot with a body that just didn't quit (thanks to the enhancing surgeries Richie assumed she'd had), and he liked the idea of using Abigail in this way. He found it fitting to take this kind of advantage of a woman like her, a woman who used her sex as a solution to any problem that crossed her path.

"Good? I'm the best you'll ever have," Abigail said and bent to her hands and knees.

Licking her lips, she moved like cat, crawling stealthily towards Richie. Some of her hair hung over her eyes, obscuring part of her face, making her look like some veiled and mysterious Egyptian princess. Richie thought the sight of her coming towards him was incredibly sexy. Hot lust warmed his guts; he was about to take the fantasies he'd had while Abigail had teased him during lunch and make them reality.

She moved her hands up Richie's legs and rubbed his erection through the fabric of his pants. Richie sighed in anxious pleasure. Abigail continued to tease him through his pants, moving up to level her breasts to his crotch and rubbing them against him through her sweater and his pants. Richie ran a hand into her short hair and fisted it.

"C'mon bitch, and suck me," he breathed. Abigail pushed him hard against the door with her hands. Fire roared in her brown eyes.

"Beg me for it," she said harshly.

"Please, goddammit, please, suck me," Richie whispered. He either didn't realize or didn't care that he had just allowed Abigail to dictate what was going on when Richie was supposedly in control. Abby smiled.

She reached into Richie's pants and pulled out his stiff cock. It was surprisingly thick in her hands and uncircumcised. She stroked its pink flesh, pulling back the foreskin, and considered it a moment before taking it in her mouth.

Richie peered down at Abby as she slipped him into her. Her lips wrapped his pole and slid down to the root of his cock, her nose mushing into his stomach. She bobbed her head, stroking him with her mouth, her tongue gliding up and down his shaft. All Richie could see was the top of her head, her hair swishing back and forth as she blew him.

She moaned softly, more for his benefit than hers. Richie loved to watch women suck his dick, and Abigail was a total babe. Not to mention, she knew exactly what she was doing. The fact that she was Melvin's ex wife, a woman Richie typically considered off limits, and that he was merely using her for his own physical satisfaction only made the situation hotter in his mind.

Abigail wrapped his cock with one hand and stroked him into her mouth, sticking out her tongue and slapping the end of his cock with it. She twisted her knuckles as if she was turning a door knob, causing a sensation that Richie had never felt before. Just when he thought he was going to cum, Abigail stopped with the motion, lifted his penis, and licked the underside of it like a lollipop.

"Oh shit, that's good," Richie grunted. Abby moved her mouth to his balls and took one in her mouth, sucking gently. Richie bit his tongue to keep from moaning too loud. His knees began to tremble. Abby popped his testicle out of her mouth.

"Want to fuck me?" she asked.

"Yes, oh yes," Richie gasped.

In the next instant, Richie and Abigail were fumbling with their clothes. Richie unbuttoned his shirt, his eyes glued to Abigail pulling her sweater over her head, revealing her enormous round tits. He tossed his shirt to the floor and went to work at his pants, watching as Abigail stripped off her tight jeans. She wasn't wearing any underwear, and Richie saw that her pussy was shaved. His cock sprung up as Richie pushed his jockeys off around his ankles.

Abigail cleared the papers and folders from Melvin's desk with a swipe of her hands and laid down on the desk, spreading her legs wide to give Richie access. Richie stumbled over and managed himself between Abigail's legs. He'd been attracted to Abigail for a long time, but he never thought he'd get the chance to fuck her. How to turn fantasy into reality and not ruin the glamor it had in his mind? Richie wiped some sweat from his brow and wrapped his arms around Abigail's legs, his hands gripping the underside of her thighs.

Taking his time, he slowly slid his cock into Abby's slick pussy.

He gnashed his teeth, feeling his cock become sheathed in her juices. He pumped into her, gaining speed, reaching a comfortable rhythm that he felt was neither too fast nor too slow. He pivoted his hips and ground into her as he thrust, a little something that he liked to call the Golding Twist. Richie knew that it was magic.

Abigail looked up at the ceiling as Richie pumped her, wondering how long it would take him to cum. He'd already lasted longer than Melvin used to, but that was by no means an achievement on any level. When was the last time that she'd had an actual orgasm? She couldn't remember, but this didn't keep her from trying. She enjoyed sex but could never quite reach that peak; it was the tip of Mount Everest that always eluded her. When she'd seen Melvin that day at lunch, she had the strangest feeling that Melvin could take her there.

But what had changed about him? What made her think that the most incapable man on Earth at lovemaking would be the one to bring her to the one place of pleasure that always seemed to slip through her fingers?

She closed her eyes, feeling Richie's thickness invade her, retreat and then plunge deeper. It was not an unpleasant situation; it was actually very nice. But as much as she tried to concentrate on the feeling of the sharp jolts of pleasure running up her body as he fucked her, the more she knew she would not be able to cum.

"Yeah, that's it, baby," she breathed to encourage Richie that he wasn't failing at satisfying her. She wished that he was Melvin. Funny how so many things could change in such a short period of time. And what was with all that business at lunch between Melvin and Tina? Tina had been tossing looks at him like an adolescent with a crush. And what about when they were both gone for several minutes, what could...

"Ohhhh, fuck!" Richie moaned, and he pulled out his cock just in time to spray Abigail's legs and stomach with a spew of cum. He assumed that he had brought Abigail to levels of pleasure never reached before with the Golding Twist, and now it was her turn to return to the favor. He lathered her thighs in a white coat of stickiness.

Finally, Richie collapsed on top of her, placing his head against one firm breast like a fleshy pillow. Abigail raised her hands and stroked his hair as Richie took in several deep breaths and blew them through his lips.

"Ready to tell me where Melvin is?" Abigail said.

"I'll tell you what I know," Richie replied and opened his mouth to begin.

***

A hand shook Melvin awake. He murmured something softly, nothing but a few words of gibberish and opened his eyes. He peeled his lids back slowly, afraid that glare of sunlight would blind him, but it was dark outside the car windows. The rain still came down hard. Bridget placed her palm against his forehead and then moved to his cheek, checking for a fever.

"You feel ok?" she asked. Melvin nodded in reply.

"Much better," he said, and Bridget waited for him to faint again. This time he didn't. Bridget smiled.

"Then let's go visit your witch," she said.

They jetted out the car's doors, whisked through the sheets of rain and pushed their way into the witch's shop. Melvin didn't bother to ask how Bridget had gotten directions there or how the witch had discovered her number. After the revelation of the love juice, everything else was a moot point to him.

The shop was dim, the only light coming from a few tall metal lamps. The shades were pulled down, making the darkness outside darker. Melvin turned to check if the jar of eyeballs he'd seen on his first visit was still there. It sat where he remembered it; only it seemed to be less full. Melvin wondered if the witch had sold them or used them for some strange potion, maybe even another batch of her magical love juice. A chill shivered up his spine. The eyes left in the jar turned in unison to stare at him.

"Classy digs," Bridget said. Melvin turned to see her at a shelf on the opposite side of the store, a large jar held in her hands. The head of a large snake floated inside of it, the snake's fangs bared as if it had murder on its mind during its decapitation. Bridget put the jar back on the shelf and picked up an ancient looking book. She blew some dust off, opened the flesh-colored leather cover and thumbed through the pages.

"What is this? Arabic?" she said, her brow knitting in concentration.

"Yep, Arabic. It's the Necronomicon, the Book of the Dead. There's some fabulous recipes in the back," the witch's voice rose from nowhere at the back of the store. Melvin turned. She stood in a spot where Melvin was sure she hadn't been a second before, but she was a witch. Acting mysterious and popping out of thin air was probably her kind of thing. Her hair was in a long ponytail, flipped over one shoulder, and she wore a black t-shirt with the words "2 Hot 2 Handle" written in white letters across her chest and a pair of torn jean shorts. It was a far cry from the shimmering black dress she had on the last time Melvin had seen her. The witch must have either read his mind or guessed his thoughts from the expression on his face.

"It's casual Friday," she said, catching his eye with a shrug and motioning towards her attire.

"But it's only Wednesday," Bridget said. She put the ancient tome back on the shelf and wiped off her hands on her long brown jacket. The witch smiled, her sharp teeth gleaming.

"Maybe in YOUR reality," she said. She emphasized the word "reality" by placing her hands in the air and turning her fingers into sarcastic quotation marks. She turned towards Melvin.

"How're you feeling, Mel baby?" she asked. Melvin straightened his glasses and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. The longer that Melvin looked at the witch, the more he felt himself falling under her spell. What was it about her? Was it just her breathtaking beauty or was it some magic she was working?

"I've been better," he said.

"Well, let's see if I can't help the healing process along a little bit, shall we?" the witch said, her hands on her hips. Bridget cleared her throat, attracting their attention.

"Melvin may be fine with just thinking of you as 'the witch', but I am curious as to whether you have an actual name or not," Bridget said, stepping to Melvin's side. The witch held a finger against her chin and tapped it a moment as if in deep thought.

"You can call me Morgan... this week," she said finally.

"Short for Morgan le Fey, I presume?" Bridget replied in a tired voice, raising her eyebrows. The witch's playful attitude wasn't cutting the mustard as far as Bridget was concerned. She had some considerable doubts that the dark-haired woman was everything she claimed to be.

"Sure, if that floats your boat or wets your panties or what the shit ever," the witch said, swiveled on her heels, and headed towards a back room. Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she said with a wide grin, "Follow me."

***

Richie hadn't known very much to tell, but it was enough as far as Abigail was concerned. She now knew about Courtney, the waitress that Melvin had the hots for and apparently had a date with, and the lawyer that had whisked Melvin off in her car to destinations unknown and unclear. It was a start, and at least it had given her an excuse to get laid.

Abigail didn't care so much about her own gratification during sex as the power it allowed her to hold over men. They would do anything if they thought that they had a chance to score some. They were addicted, crack heads in need of a fix, and Abigail could provide the best stuff on the market.

Abby stepped out of Melvin's office and nearly collided with the striding form of Olivia Crabapple. Olivia sneered, regained her composure, and then a look of recognition passed across her face as she realized who had almost run into her. Olivia grimaced in distaste.

"MacMuffin's ex, what are you doing here?" Olivia said with narrowed eyes. Her lips pulled back over her teeth.

"Just looking for Melvin. I saw that he's out and left a message on his desk," Abigail replied indifferently. Olivia Crabapple was a big fish in a little pond, and Abigail refused to be intimidated by her. She knew that her smug attitude would only drive Olivia angrier, but what did Abby care? Olivia took a step forward, leaned in, and drove a finger into Abigail's chest, her long nail poking Abby in the sternum. Abigail's mouth gaped open in surprise and pain.

"Listen here, little Miss Slut-terson. You stay away from Melvin if you know what's good for you. He's moving on to bigger and better things if you catch my drift, and you're ancient history. So make like the dinosaurs and become extinct," she snarled, turned on her feet and stormed off.

Abigail's mouth stayed open for another moment before she remembered to close it. Just what the hell was that all about? Since when did Olivia Crabapple care a lick for the likes of Melvin MacMuffin? Things were stranger than Abigail had first assumed, and she made a mental declaration to get to the bottom of it.

One hand held against her chest, her cheeks still burning with embarrassment from Crabapple's chiding, Abigail headed towards the elevator with conflicting thoughts and questions crowding her mind.

The bottom line: she had to figure out how to make Melvin hers again.

***

"Why have I been so tired?" Melvin asked. The three of them sat in rickety wooden chairs around a circular table covered in a blood red tablecloth. In the middle of the table sat what Melvin could only assume was a wax hand. The ends of each finger of the hand glowed with flame. The finger flames were the only light in the room, and the faces of the two women flickered as Melvin exchanged uneasy glances with both of them.

"It's hard to explain," Morgan said. "But I'll give it a go." She leaned back in her chair and kicked her feet up on the table. She wore red flip flops which she slid off with her toes.

"Ok, here goes. Now imagine you're a kick ass Jaguar. I mean like the car Ms. Briswell here drives and not like the animal. So you're the biggest and most bad-ass Jag ever created. The ladies get wet just hearing your engine rev, ya know? Well, what happens when you kick it out to 120 miles per hour every night? Sooner or later, you run out of gas. The tank gets empty. You've got to head to the gas station and refuel, and that's where I come in. Follow me?" she said.

"That explanation sounds pretty vague to me," Bridget said with a sigh. Her face wore a look as if to say she wasn't buying a word of this.

"Being vague and mysterious is part of the allure of being a witch," Morgan said, her lips peeling back from her teeth in a smile. "But that explanation will have to do. It's the closest to the truth."

"So how do I refuel?" Melvin asked. The witch pulled her feet of the table and leaned in.

"Two things. The first is pretty simple; I have a little number I cooked up that you will drink. The second thing is, sooner or later, you're going to have to make a choice."

"A choice?" Melvin said, his eyes growing wide.

"Yeah, you don't really think you can go around the city with every woman you're attracted to wanting to fuck your dick off without consequences, do you? Sometime, there's gonna be some men who are gonna get pissed you're taking all the ladies and decide to take YOU out. Trust me, I know from past experience," Morgan said. Her dark eyes gleamed in the candlelight like a wolf's.

"You mean someone's been killed because of this same potion you've given Melvin?" Bridget said in a sharp voice.

"Live and learn," Morgan intoned with a shrug and turned to Melvin. "You've got to pick one and only one, but I promise you this. You two will be bound forever and ever by my potion."

"What are you getting out of this?" Bridget cut in.

"Amusement. The satisfaction of helping out my fellow man. I mean, what made you such a cynical bitch? Want me to take some of that edge off, Bridget sweetie?" the witch said in soft, soothing whispers.

Something about the way Morgan said her words sent pleasant shivers down Bridget's back. The woman was beautiful, exotic and somehow dangerous. Bridget found her to be a more and more attractive combination of traits, but she fought to retain her lawyerly mode of skepticism on Melvin's behalf. Morgan's hand slipped through the flickering gloom and rested on top of Bridget's fingers.

"Can I give you something?" Morgan purred. Melvin rapped his knuckles against the top of the table, temporarily breaking whatever spell Morgan seemed to be casting over Bridget.

"You can give me that fuel or potion or stuff now. When do I have to make my choice?" he said, pulling his glasses off and placing them neatly on the table before him.

"Come back whenever you're ready. Just don't take too long making your decision. Now be careful. This stuff has been known to make some people's heads a little funny after they take it," the witch said. She reached down the front of her shirt and took out a long vial of glowing orange fluid.

"Rejuvenator," Morgan said and passed the vial to Melvin. Melvin rolled the vial in his fingers, considering the odd fluid inside of it. He remembered having to put his own essence in the batch of original love juice, and he wondered what possible ingredients might be floating around in this one.

"Some of MY essence, babe. Less filling and tastes great," Morgan said, reading his mind. The corners of Melvin's mouth tightened, and he pulled off the small wooden cork at the end of the vial. The two women looked at him expectantly.

"Bottoms up," he said and threw his head back as he brought the vial to his lips, feeling the warm liquid slid down his throat and settle in his guts.

***

Morgan turned to Bridget with a sly look on her face. Even though Bridget had fallen victim of the love juice and had experienced a kind of sexual awakening, Morgan thought that the lawyer still tried too hard to wear an outside skin of uptight, tight-laced attitude. Morgan wanted to toy with her some.

"He's gonna be out for awhile. It's just you and me now," the witch said, standing from her chair and taking a step towards Bridget. Bridget gulped, feeling a lump in her throat. Her stomach began to feel tingly, but she couldn't understand why.

"Isn't there something I can do to make you not dislike me so much?" Morgan asked, placing a hand against the table and leaning her hip into it. She twirled a finger of her other hand through a twist of hair on her forehead like a coy schoolgirl.

"I.. uh... don't know what you mean," Bridget croaked, her face feeling red. She could feel some anxious sweat forming on her brow and butterflies in her stomach. It hadn't been like this with Melvin and his love juice. She had seduced Mel and not the other way around, but this was different. Was the witch using something on her? Or was Bridget just squirming in her seat, her panties beginning to moisten, because she was attracted to Morgan and liked the idea of being seduced by her, no strings attached?

The witch smiled and took another step towards Bridget and leaned in, placing her hands on either side of the armrests on Bridget's chair, trapping her.

"I think I have some ideas," Morgan whispered.

***

Melvin's head swirled in a rainbow of colors. Leprechauns leapt off the rainbow, tossing gold in the air and proceeded to engage in violent anal sex. Then a three-headed dog ran by, snatched one anal humping Irish man and gobbled him up, chased a few more leprechauns around, found a suitable female one and proceeded to give it some hardcore anal.

Melvin looked away and saw the witch and Bridget on a nearby cloud. They were naked and kissing, the witch running her hands through Bridget's shoulder length blonde hair. The witch's hair was no longer in a ponytail but flowed down her back like a black cape, streaks of white running through it like lightening bolts. Their bodies glistened with sweat as they caressed each other, Bridget's hands roaming the witch's stomach then moving up and rubbing and squeezing the witch's supple breasts.

"What are you doing Melvin?" Abigail's voice came from behind him. Her hand reached out and fell on his shoulder.

"Are you watching those women? What sluts. You should come back to me. Forget about them, and forget about that whore at the cafe. Courtney, was it? Come back to me. You know you want to," her voice breezed in his ear.

Melvin pushed her away without looking back and walked towards the forms of Bridget and Morgan. Their sliding, nude bodies beckoned him, and he couldn't take his eyes off their two figures. He'd forgotten how amazing the witch was shaped; how she was a sculpted masterpiece of human flesh. Could something so perfect even be human?

Bridget saw him approach and breathed, "He's awake." Morgan was kissing her neck and look up from the valley of Bridget's shoulder.

"No, he's just dreaming. Come here, Mel baby. This one's gonna be a doozy, and you're not ever gonna wanna wake up," the witch said, reached out her hand and grabbed Melvin by his erection. Funny, he didn't remember undressing.

A blinding flash, and Melvin blinked. Bridget was suddenly in his face, kissing him. Melvin felt her tongue invading his mouth, twirling with his own, and then she pulled away with a soft moan. He looked down and saw that he was pumping into Morgan's glorious pussy, his cock a slick pink pole sliding in and out, while Bridget rode her face. Bridget's hands were on the back of his neck, and she leaned in, their foreheads touching.

"Choose me, Melvin. Please, God. Choose me," she whispered and kissed him. Intense pleasure flooded over Melvin, and he closed his eyes.

Another white flash. This time Morgan was bending over, Melvin plowing into her doggie-style while her face was buried in Bridget's cunt. Her long hair billowed over her back and hung over the sides of her ribs, whipping back and forth. Morgan's ass slapped against him, her flesh rippling. Melvin bit his lip, feeling her tight wetness wrapped around his throbbing cock. He knew he had to be dreaming, the feeling of fucking Morgan was too good to be real. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex, and it clung to their skin.

Bridget's face clenched, and she suddenly began to fling her head from right to left.

"Yes, oh shit, yes!" she cried in a high pitched voice, and Melvin could hear Morgan, her deep laughter muffled by Bridget's pussy.

Another white flash, and Melvin couldn't see a damn thing. Then he realized that he was on his back, and one of the women's pussy was in his face while the other one rode his cock. His tongue was deep inside of the woman on top of him, her juices dripping down his face. A gutteral moan above him told him that it was Bridget. Apparently, Morgan had called his dibs on his cock.

He heard wet, smacking noises which he could only assume were the two woman kissing. Dammit! Even in his dreams he had to miss out on seeing some of the good stuff. Morgan's pussy had a vice grip on his cock, and Melvin's saw stars behind his eyes for a moment as he felt her speed up her pace on him.

"That's it, Mel baby. Oh, fuck!" she cried in her musical voice, and Melvin lost it. He felt the world spin, his cock squirting into her, and then a white flash stung his eyes.

When he could see again, he was faced with one of the leprechauns. It was smoking a doobie with the three-headed dog. The leprechaun frowned at Melvin.

"What the fuck you lookin' at?" it said with a Brooklyn accent and then punched Melvin in the face. Everything went black.

***

"Looks who's back on Earth," Morgan said when Melvin opened his eyes. Morgan and Bridget were still in their seats. How long had he been out? Just a few seconds, he guessed. He shook his head and stretched.; he felt like a million bucks! All of his exhaustion had dissipated.

"How do you feel?" Bridget asked, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"I feel... great," Melvin said. He smiled at both of them.

"Excellent, so now you're all prepped for your date tonight. Might make your decision a little easier once you ride the Courtney train," Morgan said and then pretended to pull an invisible chain and made a tooting sound with her mouth. Melvin frowned.

"Just one problem, she's sick. The waitress at the restaurant told me," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He picked his glasses off the table and slid them on.

"Is she sick? Or did she call in sick so she had all day to get ready for her big date? Did you try calling her, smart guy?" the witch said. Melvin thought that Morgan's looked a little more frayed than before he'd passed out. He shook his head.

"No, I... I'm an idiot," he said, slapping a palm against his head. He knew he should have called her instead of just assuming that he was a loser. Old habits died hard, he guessed.

"I'll second that," Morgan said with a wink. "Call her."

"Yeah, call her," Bridget added, but she looked a little sad as she said it.

The phone rang in Courtney's hand, and for a split second, it frightened the living crap out of her. It was just so unexpected that when she'd pick up the phone to confirm her date tonight that it would come to life with a shrill cry in her fingers that she almost dropped the receiver with a shriek. Instead, she got a hold of herself and answered, her slim finger pressing the talk button.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Courtney? It's Melvin," the voice on the other line said.

"What a coincidence! I was just about to call you," she said with a smile. She always found it funny how things like that worked. She twirled the phone cord between her fingers; Courtney hadn't switched to a cordless because she wasn't sure what she would do with her hands if she didn't have something to play with during conversations. It was one of her little tics.

"I just wanted to make sure that we're still on for tonight," Melvin said, his voice obscured by the snap, crackle, popping of static; she assumed that he must be on his cell. Courtney's hazel eyes moved to a hanging mirror on one wall, and she gave herself a quick looking over. She still had some work to do, but she figured she would be ready. The only x-factor would be the nervousness that kept her stomach in knots.

"Yes, of course. Pick me up at eight?" she said.

"Sounds wonderful. I'll see you then," Melvin replied.

"I can't wait," Courtney said, and she wished Melvin could see the size of her smile.

***

Melvin flipped his cell phone closed and tucked it down the pocket of his jacket. A sense of overwhelming relief flooded over him, and his face felt a little flushed with a warm glow. He sighed. He still had his date with Courtney tonight; she would not be standing him up. At least, not yet.

"So how'd it go?" Morgan the witch asked, a thin grin creasing her lips. Melvin didn't understand why she asked him questions when she probably knew the answer anyway; she just liked to tease him. Were all supernatural beings so coy and trite? Not that Melvin minded; it was better than having her being some kind of cackling, evil monster like the Wicked Witch of the West or something.

"Good. We're still on," he said. Morgan nodded and pushed her long dark ponytail over her shoulder.

"I told you as much. When will you ever learn to listen?" she said.

"Maybe when you stop feeling the need to be so mysterious all the time and just talk straight to us. You know, for a change," Bridget Briswell said from her position next to Morgan. She sounded annoyed, but then her face brightened and broke out into a musical laugh. "Not that I mind. I think you just do it because you think it makes you sexier."

Melvin's eyebrows raised. The two women seemed on much friendlier terms after he'd taken Morgan's Rejuvenator and passed out for a few moments; before then, Bridget had treated Morgan with a mix of distrust and disdain, only because she felt so protective of Melvin. Bridget was his lawyer, after all.

"Well, it does make me sexier, don't you think?" Morgan said playfully.

Bridget hesitated, ran a hand through Morgan's black hair and said, "Maybe."

Melvin swallowed. Something was definitely going on between the two of them. How long had he really been out? It had felt like only a few seconds but...

His thought was broken by Pachelbel's Canon in D, the chosen ring of Melvin's cell phone. He fumbled in the pocket of his jacket and raised the phone to his ear, mashing it on before the song could make it all the way through.

"Hello?" Melvin said.

"Melvin, it's Richie. Sorry to interrupt whatever's going on with that Briswell chick, but your ex is on the hunt. She was over here today and... well, we should talk. Meet me in your office. She even had a run in with Crabapple," Richie Golding's voice buzzed in Melvin's ear. Melvin's brow knotted, and he felt a disgusted twist in his stomach. Just when things were looking up, Abby had to show up with her surgically enhanced breasts and ruin everything.

"I'll be right there."

***

His mind racing as he walked through his building's lobby towards the elevators, Melvin didn't see the woman mopping, the wet floor, nor the bucket of soapy water until he'd lost his footing, slid a about a foot and knocked it over, its foamy gray contents squirting across the floor. The cleaning woman, a young woman with most of her hair tucked under a tan baseball cap with the word "Janitor" written across the top, flashed him a look of undisguised disdain.

Bridget had dropped him off in front of the building and drove off to park in her reserved space in the garage, and Melvin was glad that she wasn't here to see him sliding around the tile like one of the Three Stooges. He had fallen sharply to his knees, and he struggled to get up, murmuring quick apologies.

"Didn't you see the sign? Wet floor, buddy," she said, her mop held threateningly in her hands.

"What is going on here?" bellowed a low, strained voice approaching through the lobby. Melvin regained his balance and saw a thin, white-haired man with a Hitler mustache coming towards them like a moth attracted to flame. The man had on the same kind of tan uniform that the cleaning woman wore, and he looked ready to crack some skulls. Melvin visualized the angry, mustached man tearing out the uniformed girl's heart and eating it raw in front of her eyes. Not a pleasant thought.

"Aw, shit. My supervisor," the cleaning woman said, a grim expression on her face. Melvin caught the look of dread on the woman's face and knew that he didn't want have her held responsible for his folly.

"You clumsy bitch! Are you injured, sir?" the supervisor said with a vehement snarl towards the woman and a mock concern aimed at Melvin. No doubt that the man wanted Melvin to accuse the cleaning woman of incompetence or negligence or something so he'd have an excuse to fire her. Melvin wondered what the man had against her. She was an attractive woman, her ebony skin like smooth chocolate, intelligent dark brown eyes, and a youthful face with stunningly sculpted features. Not your typical cleaning woman.

"No, no. It's all my fault. I wasn't paying attention and just walked right through the area this young woman was mopping. I didn't see the sign," Melvin said, pointing a finger at the obvious yellow sign cautioning everyone with the bold letters : CAUTION WET FLOOR. To be honest, Melvin knew that the sign was hard to miss. "There was a lot going on in my mind, and I just missed it."

"Right," the man turned to the woman. "Tasha, you get off with a warning. But next time, put the sign where ANYONE can see it." His voice had a sarcastic edge, careful not too sound too condescending towards Melvin, but Melvin caught a whiff of the man's bitterness like dog shit on a flowery spring breeze. The man whirled on his heels and stormed off to crawl back into whatever dank pit of hell he'd come. Melvin knew the type well; he worked for one than one of them.

Tasha sighed, wiped her sleeve against her forehead and said, "Thanks, man. That asshole's been after me since I stopped him from copping a feel in the storage closet."

Melvin nodded and replied, "Yeah, I kinda got a boss like that."

"You?" Tasha laughed and held a hand against her chest, the other still holding the wooden handle of her mop. "I GUESS I can see a guy like you being sexually harassed. Good to know it's not just poor, helpless girls like me." She winked and turned to the bucket to set it back up on its wheels. "Got to clean this mess up."

"Here, let me help you," Melvin offered, and Tasha allowed him to take a hold of the mop and bucket and push it backs towards the supply closet. Melvin still felt bad about the trouble he caused her and wanted to help her out in any way he could. Still, he knew that Richie was waiting on him; he checked his watch. He had some time to kill, he figured. He waited while Tasha pulled on the keys attached to her work belt and sorted for the right one. A dark lock of hair escaped from under her cap and slipped down her neck, curly and long. Melvin found it very becoming, and he wondered what he was doing here, standing outside the door of a supply closert with a beautiful woman. He guessed his motives weren't entirely innocent. Tasha caught his glance and tucked the hair back under the hat.

"Kinda new here, sorry. Not a full-time cleaning woman. Just got to pay the bills," she said, nodding towards the keys. She smiled when she found the right one and stuck it into the door.

"Well, if you're not a cleaning woman, what are you?" Melvin asked as she took the mop out of his hands, placed it in a corner and pushed the bucket under a leaky faucet. She twisted the faucet on and started to refill the yellow bucket with fresh water. She poured in a dab of cleaning solution.

"A student. It's my second year. Gonna be a photographer," Tasha said distractedly, her eyes fluttering from the filling bucket to Melvin.

"Hey, my niece... well, actually, my ex wife's niece... she wants to do the same thing. Maybe you know her," Melvin said, his voice a little shaky.

There wasn't a lot of room in the supply closet to maneuver, and Tasha's ass kept brushing against Melvin. He assumed that it was inadvertant, that she wasn't trying to turn him on, but it was happening and now Melvin wanted to do something about it. She was a young, attractive woman, and he'd had a fantasy for a long time about fucking a cleaning woman in a supply closet. The only problem was that Melvin had yet to be the aggressor in any of his sexual activities. He swallowed. He needed to find out if Morgan's Rejuvenator really worked, right? And he had the magic love juice on his side.

"What's her name?" Tasha asked, and Melvin was now sure that she was pushing her ass into him on purpose. Melvin reached behind him, found the door to the supply closet and shut it. Hearing the click of the lock, Tasha twisted off the faucet and turned around.

"Tina Swift. I fucked her in a men's bathroom today just like I want to fuck you in this closet, right now," Melvin said, his heart thrumming in his chest. Tasha slowly backed against the opposite wall in the small closet, a doe-eyed look of innocence on her face. She was playing along, Melvin realized; she wanted him to be the assertive one. Chalk up another new experience for Melvin MacMuffin, folks. A woman who actually wanted HIM to take advantage of HER.

"I know Tina. She's my roommate this semester..." She gulped. "I got drunk at this one party, and she ate my pussy out under the kitchen table. It was the hottest thing I'd ever done. Until now," Tasha whispered. A strange smile split her lips. "Hot fucking must run in the family."

Melvin stepped towards her, sweeping her cap off with one hand and pushing her harshly against the wall with the other. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders, and she gasped as Melvin's lips overtook hers. Her kisses were gentle but passionate, and she moaned as Melvin leaned into her body.

Melvin wasn't completely sure how to proceed since he wasn't used to being dominate in any aspect of life much less in the sex department. How forceful should he be? Forceful but not scary, he assumed, but that was a fine line to walk. He wondered how she would react to him tearing off her clothes like a barbarian.

He placed his hands just above the top button of her uniform, licked his lips in concentration and ripped her shirt open, two buttons tearing and flittering across the floor. Tasha gasped in mock surprise, and a hungry look flashed in her eyes. She liked it. Encouraged, Melvin pulled her lacy bra over her heaving mounds and took one plump brown tit in his mouth, sucked on it and then switched to the other tit. Tasha whimpered and fisted a hand in Melvin's hair.

Time was of the essence, considering the large puddle in the middle of the lobby that Tasha was responsible for cleaning and that Melvin was expected in his office by Richie at any moment, so they wasted no time in tearing each other out of their clothes. Melvin pulled Tasha's shirt over her creamy shoulders while she fumbled with Melvin's fly. Unleashing Melvin's straining meat, she stroked him with one hand, gaining heat, tickling his balls with the other. Melvin then pulled Tasha's pants and underwear to her knees and maneuvered himself behind her. In moment, he was slipping into her hot pussy, her ass wriggling as she squirmed in pleasure.

"Oh, fuck. That's it," Tasha murmured as Melvin began to pump his cock into her, thrusting deep and hard. She arched her back, pushing into him, and Melvin pounded at her pussy, sweat starting to drip down his face. He blinked as a salty bead threatened to drop off an eyelash and into his eye. His hands sunk into the soft flesh of her hips, and he clenched his eyes shut. Being in control was a different feeling for him, somehow powerful and authoritative; he could do with her as he liked. Still, he could tell she wanted it rough and dirty, so he'd allow her that satisfaction. But mostly only because he wanted it rough and dirty as well.

"You like it hard, baby?" Melvin said between breaths. Tasha put her hands on the walls and grinded back into Melvin's pelvis, taking him even deeper inside the moist walls of her vagina. Melvin gritted his teeth and waves of pleasure swooped over him and made his legs feel wobbly.

"Love... gettin... it... ROUGH!" Tasha grunted and crashed into him as another bolt of ecstasy rushed through them. She stood up just enough to allow Melvin to grasp her swinging pendulum breasts as he pumped his cock into her sopping wetness. Her titties were so huge, Melvin could hardly find a decent purchase on them with his hands. Her ass smacked against him with a sweaty clap.

The fact that Tasha was fucking a complete stranger in the cleaning supply closet hit her and took her to the edge of her lust. Tasha's passion was overcome by a surging wave from her lower body, and she became blanketed with tingly shivers. She stifled a cry as she came on Melvin's throbbing tool. Meanwhile, Melvin's head swirled, and he felt his muscles clench before spewing his thick load down the side of Tasha's cool leg. They pulled apart and took some time to catch their breath. After a moment, they slowly and quietly began to sort through their clothes without speaking. Finally, Tasha broke the silence.

"Well, THAT was interesting," she said with a breathless laugh, and Melvin laughed with her.

***

Straightening his tie, Melvin didn't see Bridget Briswell when he stepped into the elevator until she tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up, saw her and smiled brightly. She didn't look pleased.

"You're just getting into the elevator? Where have you been?" Bridget said, her eyes narrowing to thin slits. She frowned at him.

"Met a girl and got to know her in the supply closet," Melvin said with a wink. He knew that Bridget of all people would appreciate his sordid adventures as she had played a part in more than one of them. Bridget turned from side-to-side as if confirming that they were the only two in the elevator and grasped Melvin's arm with a tight grip, pulling him close to her.

"You're just having sex with random women now just because you CAN?" Bridget said with disgust. Melvin's eyes widened in surprise; he figured that Bridget would have commended him on the change that had taken place over his sexual nature the last two days. Hadn't Melvin been the one to liberate her from the tight-laced lawyer bitch she was less than a week ago?

"Melvin, remember what the witch said about stepping on the wrong people's toes. Don't you think you should exercise a little bit of caution about who you sleep with?" Bridget whispered harshly, and her eyebrows raised in concern. Melvin licked her lips and wondered why she was suddenly so worried about the kind of women he boned. Had it been something that the witch had said, or was Bridget just...

"Jealous?" Melvin said. Bridget's mouth gaped open in response. She stammered and realized that Melvin was partially right. She was jealous in a way, worried that she would not be the one picked by Melvin when he had to make his choice. The last thing she needed was more competition, but that wasn't the reason she had expressed her concern. She knew that Melvin was traveling a dangerous road, having handfuls of women desperate to feel his touch and battling each other to be the one chosen by him.

"No, not jealous. It's just that... you have to be careful playing with people's emotions. The women you make love to, it's not like you just fuck them, and they go on their merry way. You make a... connection, one that they're not easily going to want to give up," she said.

Melvin nodded. He knew this, and he didn't like the thought of just taking advantage of women because he could. This was the very kind of thing he hated about his ex wife, using her sexuality for her own personal satisfaction without a care for anyone else. Had this what he'd just done with the woman downstairs? All the other women had been the ones to at least initiate any sexual contact, and Melvin could live with that. But now? He had Courtney to think about, the one woman he still might actually want to start up a relationship. And he cared about Bridget, too, and he didn't want to hurt her either.

"There's no reason for you to feel jealous," Melvin said, leaned in and kissed her delicately on the lips. Already he could feel his cock hardening in his pants; apparently the witch's Rejuvenator was more potent than he expected. Bridget kissed him back with her soft and sweet lips, her hands slipping under Melvin's jacket and rubbing against his chest.

The elevator lurched, dinged, and the doors slid open. Melvin and Bridget quickly separated before they could be seen grabbing at each other like horny high schoolers.

"Your floor," Bridget said with a smile and pushed him through the doors.

***

Olivia Crabapple waited for Melvin in his office. She sat on the front of his desk, a long plaid skirt dangling below her knees, and had one of Melvin's portfolios opened in her hands. She looked up at him as he entered and smiled endearingly at him. Melvin gulped. She was not the same woman from two days ago when she was stealing his work and claiming for her own. Now she had become an almost tolerable boss, believe it or not. Olivia placed Melvin's portfolio on his desk back where she found it.

"Melvin, where have you been? Are you ok?" she asked, sliding off the desk and stepping towards him. She reached one an arm and gripped his upper arm with one hand, a look of concern plastered across her attractive face. Her cropped, bleached blonde hair shone in the overhead lights, and her green eyes glittered.

"Yes, I was feeling a little ill after lunch, but I'm all right now," Melvin said, unable to escape her roving hands. She roamed around him and blocked any quick exit through his office door.

"Your ex wife was here looking for you. Left a message on your desk, but I threw it away. You know better than to get mixed up with the likes of her again, right? Not when you have something better and more willing right in front of you," she said in a soft voice, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him close to her.

"Abigail and I are through, Olivia. That's not something you have to worry about," Melvin replied, feeling Olivia's hands unbuckle his belt and slip into his pants. His cock hardened once touched by her cool fingers.

"That's what I like to hear," she cooed. She slid down to her knees and looked up at Melvin with wanting green eyes. Her hands began to pull down his pants, and Melvin didn't make a move to stop her. The Rejuvenator had made his sex drive insatiable and still hadn't shifted to top gear. He swallowed, and his throat felt dry.

"Know what else I like to hear, my little fuck bunny?" Olivia asked, pulling out Melvin's stiff member and licking its underside like a little girl with a popsicle. Melvin shivered in pleasure. She smacked her lips.

"What's that?" Melvin gasped, enjoying the sensations she created with her tongue and hands.

"I like to hear you call me a fucking dirty slut," she said and gobbled his cock to the root. Melvin sucked in a breath of air through his teeth and forced himself to stay upright. His boss was an amazing cocksucker; it was no wonder she had leapt up the ladder of success so quickly with a mouth like hers. Melvin ran his hands through his short hair and grasped two handfuls of it, helping guide her over his pulsing tool with sharp, plunging motions of her throat.

Olivia continued to look up with him, refusing to break eye contact, pulled his cock out of her mouth and then shoved it back in to the balls, his swelling sack slapping against the end of her chin as she deep throated him. To see his boss on her knees, taking him the way she was doing, her green eyes locked onto his, was a sight to behold. Olivia slid him out enough to rub the mushroom head of Melvin's cock against the inside of her cheek. Melvin enjoyed the way her cheek ballooned as his thick, meaty pole pushed it from the inside.

"You ARE a fucking dirty slut," Melvin groaned. "Can't you see how hard you make me?"

Olivia spat Melvin's cock out of her mouth with a wet slurp, wet saliva covering the extent of Melvin's protruding penis and dripping past her fingers, and she said, "I make your sex sausage so hard, it just wants to explode all over my face, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, oh yeah," Melvin breathed. Sex sausage? He'd forgotten Olivia's strange sexual phrases, and he wondered if he'd be getting a taste of her "slut syrup" or "fuck mustard" soon. In some corner of his mind, Melvin wondered where Richie Golding was. He'd told Melvin to meet him here, didn't he?

"Then do it. Shoot your love juice all on my face," she begged, her hands pumping Melvin with criminal speed. No man could withstand such an onslaught from a hot blonde on her knees, let alone one's ass-kicking boss. Melvin couldn't help but notice that she said "love juice"... the same name of the potion that the witch had given him, and he wondered if it was merely a coincidence. In lieu of all the things that had happened to him, it didn't seem likely. Then all sane thought left him as he felt his climax become imminent.

A jet of cum spurted from his cock and splattered on Olivia's chin. Another glob exploded out and splashed across her lips, and Olivia's tongue shot out to lick it up. A third caught her above the left eye, but the rest did not much more than drizzle onto Olivia's willing tongue. Melvin felt his knees go weak, but he managed to maintain his balance.

When it was all over, he gasped, "Here, let me get you a tissue." He stumbled over and found took one from a box on his desk and handed it to Olivia. She wiped herself off and stood from her knees and playfully slapped Melvin's ass.

"That's just a taste, big boy. The main course you get tonight," she purred, and once she was presentable, Olivia tossed the tissue into Melvin's trash bin from across the room: an admirable shot.

"Actually, uh... tonight's no good," Melvin said, stepping back from Olivia's grasp. She frowned at him.

"Really? No plans with the ex, I hope."

"No, no. Nothing like that. Perhaps I can take a rain check?" Melvin said, hoping that Olivia would accept his proposal and not further investigate his plans for the evening. Who knew how she would react if she found out he had a date with another woman, one who he was more interested in?

"Sure, anything for my favorite fuck bunny. We'll work something out," she said, gave him a quick peck on the cheek and made her way out of the office, stopping only to blow him a kiss before disappearing behind the closing door.

Melvin sighed and leaned against his desk. What a day.

"What the fuck was that?" Richie Golding asked as he poked his head up from his hiding place under Melvin's desk. Melvin jumped, startled out of his wits. Richie had been under his desk the entire time! He'd heard it all!

"Richie, let me try to explain," Melvin stammered, urging Richie to take a seat with his hands. Richie collapsed into Melvin's office chair, an expression on unbelief etched on his face. Everything that Richie had known and assumed about Melvin was all about to change, and Melvin knew that he'd have to be tactful about his explanation. How much would Richie be willing to swallow?

"I was waiting for you, and when I saw Crabapple come in, I hid under your desk, thinking I could catch her at stealing some of your work but... but... oh shit, this is fucked. You're boning her?" he said, running his hands through his hair. Some of it stood up in spiky patches. Melvin licked his lips, trying to find the right beginning for everything that needed to be said.

"Well, kind of. This is all going to sound a little crazy, but here goes..."

***

They exchanged information, leaving out certain parts that each thought the other didn't necessarily need to know. Melvin expressed his luck with woman, his relationship with Olivia, his date with Courtney and his friendship with Bridget Briswell but left out the witch and her magic love juice. Richie told Melvin that Abigail had come looking for him and knew about Courtney and Bridget but neglected to mention that Abigail had discovered this knowledge by fucking it out of Richie. They both came out of the conversation satisfied that they had told the other only what he needed to hear and therefor had single-handedly salvaged their friendship.

"Well, Abigail's going to show up and try to ruin your date with this Courtney chick, no doubt about it," Richie opined and leaned back in the office chair. He scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"Maybe Brenda and I could double with you guys and play some defense. You know, keep an eye out for the evil one and send her packing before she can get to you," he offered with a raised eyebrow. Melvin nodded.

"Yeah, that might not be such a bad idea. Bridget's got a date tonight too, with one of the security guys downstairs. Maybe we can work it out that she's at the same restaurant as well."

"We could make it a group thing even," Richie said.

"Possibly. I'll get in touch with you and Bridget, and let you know. The last thing I need is Abigail destroying any chance I have with Courtney. I've been waiting for this for so long," Melvin said, taking off his glasses rubbing the bridge of his nose. Richie stood up and patted his shoulder.

"I know, buddy. I know. Don't worry, I'm sure everything will be fine. What's the worse that could happen?"

***

Hours later, Melvin stood outside the door to Courtney's apartment, the butterflies fervently mounting in his stomach. He told himself that nothing could go wrong; he had the love juice on his side. He raised his hand, hesitated and knocked.

"Just a minute," a faint female voice called from the other side of the door.

Melvin heard the footsteps of someone approaching, and he kept the mental encouragement running through his head. This was what he had been waiting for, and he was going to be great. This was it.

The door opened, and Melvin felt his heart sink into the pit of his stomach.

On the other side of the door stood his pigtailed waitress from lunch, the one who had watched Tina and Melvin fuck in the men's room of the cafe. Of all people on God's green Earth, she... out of everyone... was Courtney's roommate. Melvin's jaw dropped as the girl's face lit up in recognition.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," she said and pulled him into the apartment.

Melvin stood inside of Courtney’s apartment and wondered how he’d gotten himself into such a mess. Here he was, finally getting lucky with women, and it had already come back to bite him firmly on the ass. Last week, he wouldn’t have been able to get half a dozen women to talk to him (let alone anything more), but in the small time frame of the last two days, he could barely walk down the street without being accosted and having his clothes torn off by amorous females. He had a self-proclaimed witch and her so-called magic love juice to both thank and blame for his current troubles.

“I can’t believe it’s you. What are you doing here?” the girl standing before him asked, her brown pigtails bobbing as she bounced anxiously on the balls of her feet. She gave him an expectant look, and Melvin realized that the girl thought that he was there for her.

She apparently figured that Melvin had followed her home or asked for her address at the cafe and then came looking for her. After all, he had given her quite the show earlier in the day with his ex wife’s cute niece, Tina, while the girl watched, pleasuring herself on the men’s room counter. Needless to say, it had been a long and interesting day. The pigtailed woman had been Melvin’s waitress at lunch, and here she was again, this time as Courtney’s roommate.

“Actually, I’m Courtney’s date tonight,” Melvin said, his collar feeling tight. He pulled at it with one hand, but it didn’t help much. His face burned.

“You? YOU’RE the sweet guy that looks at her with big puppy dog eyes every day at lunch? This is so wild,” the girl said, placing the palm of one hand against her cheek in unbelief. After a moment, she stuck out her in hand in his direction.

“By the way, in case you didn’t notice the name tag while I was fingering myself, I’m Shelly. Shelly Stone. Pleased to meet you,” she said, and Melvin took her hand in a friendly shake. In a way, it seemed funny to be shaking her hand and introducing themselves like civilized adults after their earlier experience at lunch.

“Melvin MacMuffin,” he said and laughed loudly. He couldn’t help himself. Shelly joined him. She was right: the situation was definitely wild. Melvin knew that life was ripe with coincidence and circumstance, but this was ridiculous. Then again, why shouldn’t Courtney be friends and roommates with one of her coworkers? Melvin shouldn’t have been as surprised to see Shelly as he was, but still... he had to laugh at it all.

“Who is it?” Courtney’s voice called from a far room, cutting their laughter short. Her head popped out from behind a bedroom door, and Melvin felt tingles course pleasurably through his stomach as he caught sight of her.

“It’s Melvin!” Shelly called back and stifled a giggle with one hand.

“I’ll be out in a sec!” Courtney replied and ducked her head back into the room. Shelly turned back to Melvin.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t told her a thing. I don’t know how she’d react to the thought of me masturbating as I watched two strangers bang in the men’s room,” she said, her brown eyes sparkling. She hesitated for a moment.

“Hey, if you get lucky tonight...”

“Yes?” Melvin said, but he already knew what was coming,

“Think I can watch? I’m sure Courtney won’t mind,” Shelly said in an embarrassed way, twiddling her thumbs and looking down at the floor, her cheeks blushing red.

Melvin gulped. He wanted his time shared with Courtney to be special and romantic, not lustily perverse. The thought of using Courtney as a sexual object and having someone watch them make love just seemed wrong. This was somewhat odd, considering what he’d done and how much he’d changed in the last two days.

“We’ll see,” he said, not wanting to upset her. Who knew what she’d say to Courtney if Melvin said the wrong thing and pissed her off? He certainly didn’t want Courtney to know what Shelly had seen him doing at lunch.

“If it helps, I have a date tonight, too. With Tina,” Shelly said, her eyes roving up to meet his own. Shelly twisted the toes of one foot into the floor, her knee pointed inward, a stance most associated with naughty schoolgirls. She raised her hand and began chewing on a nail.

“Tina, my n... er... my ex wife’s niece? From today?” Melvin said, stunned. When had this all come about? As if things couldn’t get worse, Shelly and Tina were both going to be together and causing hell. Undoubtedly, they’d get it in their sexy little heads that Melvin and Courtney would be up for some dirty fun.

This was the exact kind of situation that Melvin wanted to steer clear from tonight. He didn’t want Courtney merely for her body, and he wanted her to know that. He felt there was no sense in rushing things or ruining them with a hasty fling. He didn’t want things to become overly complicated too fast, and who knew what would happen if Abby, his ex wife, showed up out of nowhere?

At least, he had a plan. If you could call it that...

***

“Red team, this is gold team. Over,” Richie spoke into the walkie talkie, mashing the send button and speaking in a low, serious voice typically only heard in war movies. Brenda Briswell sat next to him in the passenger seat of Richie’s Lexus, and she rolled her eyes, wondering what the hell she had gotten herself into. She should have known better than to finally give in to Richie’s pestering. All Brenda wanted was to get him to shut up and leave her alone, and now she was stuck playing cops-and-robbers with Richie and Brenda’s twin sister, Bridget, off in some other car at an undisclosed location.

“Is this really necessary? I mean, is our whole date going to be like this?” Brenda said after a wary sigh.

“This red team. We copy you. What’s up, Gold leader? Over,” the walkie talkie buzzed in Richie’s hand. The voice on the line was that of Bridget Briswell, Brenda’s sister. She was also on a date, but with a beefy security guard who got a huge kick out of all the snooping around and thought the stealthy surveillance they were doing was the coolest thing ever. Richie turned to Brenda.

“You mean you’re not having fun? I mean, this is mostly your sister’s idea,” Richie said and then spoke into the walkie talkie. “Red team, this is gold team. All quiet on the western front. Anything your way? Over.”

“Gold team, this is red team. It’s beer o’clock, and all is well. Over,” a male’s voice said, apparently Bridget’s date wanted his turn to speak on the walkie talkie. Richie held back his laughter; he could tell that Brenda was not enjoying herself. He should have asked out her sister.

“Don’t worry, Melvin’s going to contact us and let us know where we’re going to not-so accidentally run into him for dinner. Then we’ll all sit down, have a little get together, and keep our eyes open for the likes of Melvin’s ex. You’re in for an entertaining night. If I know Abby, she’s got to be around her somewhere,” Richie said to Brenda, patting her reassuringly on the arm. Brenda leaned the seat back and put her hands over her eyes. She tried not to think about all the other things she could have been doing tonight.

“This is ridiculous,” she groaned.

“But fun as hell,” Richie said and held the walkie talkie to his lips.

***

Bridget’s elbows were on the dashboard, and her eyes were focused through the windshield on the apartment building where Courtney lived. The last remnants of the day’s thunderstorm pit-pattered against the windows. She couldn’t remember the last time that she’d been on a date, and this was certainly the strangest date that she had ever experienced. She hoped that Joey was having as good of a time as she was. She knew how she could make sure he did.

She smiled, thinking that what she was about to do would have never crossed her mind before Melvin. She had him and the witch and the love juice to thank for that, and if things didn’t turn out the way she wanted them do, she knew that she still wouldn’t ever go back to the way she was before: a major tight-ass.

After all, she barely knew the guy sitting next to her for more than a quick hello and goodbye as she walked by his desk every day, and playing with boys you don’t know wouldn’t be considered very kosher by the likes of her parents, may their souls rest in peace. But it was going to be oh so much fun.

“You know, Joey,” she said, turning her head to face him. “All this secret agent stuff kinda... well, it turns me on. What about you?” She slipped a thumb through her lips and sucked on it coyly. She turned her head to the side, allowing some of her blonde hair to fall in her face. The right strap of her dress strategically fell from her shoulder, and Bridget didn’t bother pushing it back to its upright position.

Joey gulped and said, “Uh... actually... YOU kinda turn me on, Bridget.”

Bridget smiled in reply. “Really?” she said. “Prove it.”

Her delicate hands floated through the air and flittered to Joey’s belt. She saw the crotch of his pants bulging more and more with the evidence of his hard-on; it appeared to be a sizable one which was a good sign for later tonight if Bridget’s plans all fell into place. She unbuckled his belt and took the zipper between her thumb and forefinger and slowly pulled it down. Joey moaned anxiously as Bridget’s hands slipped through his open fly and fished out his raging erection.

“Now, keep your eyes open. We’ve got a job to do, don’t we? And it wouldn’t be very polite of us to let out friends down.” She wrapped her fingers around the thickness of Joey’s flesh; it was hot in her hands. “You’re going to have to stay alert for the both of us,” Bridget instructed as her head began to dip down towards Joey’s stiff, pink pole.

Joey gritted his teeth and forced his eyes open as Bridget’s mouth encased his shaft, and sharp, sweet pleasure coursed over him. So far, this was the best date he’d ever had.

***

“You look amazing,” Melvin said, unable to take his eyes off of Courtney’s gorgeous figure. She wore a black-and-white checkered miniskirt, revealing her mouthwateringly long legs, and a low cut white blouse, unbuttoned to the busty V-curve of her chest. A necklace dangled down her slim neck, glittering in the light. A pair of black boots ended half way up her calves. Her red hair was pulled back into a stylish bun on the back of her head, held by long black pins that Melvin for some reason associated with Japanese women, and Melvin wondered what her hair would look like unfurling and falling to her shoulders: undoubtedly the whole point of having a bun like hers was to get a man desperate to undo it. It was certainly working.

“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks somewhat pink from the flattery.

“Oh yeah, Court. You’re a perfect ten tonight, babe,” Shelly added, her eyes almost as glued to Courtney’s body as Melvin’s were. Both Melvin and Shelly were suddenly knocked out of their daze by a rapping against the apartment door. Melvin blinked, and Shelly almost leapt out of her clothes and to the ceiling in excitement and scurried to the door.

“Tina!” she cried, unlatching the lock and pulling the door open. Melvin felt his own excitement drop and be replaced with another serving of gurgling liquid dread. He stepped closer to Courtney, and she looked at him with her glowing hazel eyes.

“Well, shall we be off?” he asked her, wanting to be out of the apartment before Tina and Shelly could gang up on them and ask to tag along. Courtney’s eyes locked onto his own, and Melvin’s head felt dizzy. It wasn’t unlike the sensation he’d had the first time he’d met the witch and taken her love juice. What was this feeling? Love? Lust? Something else?

“Uncle Melvin?” Tina’s perky voice called over his shoulder. “What are ya doin’ here?” Tina Swift was a cute, curly-haired blonde with curves strategically created to bring men to their knees.

“He’s got a date with my roommate!” Shelly cried, her voice giddy with shrill giggles. Melvin prepared himself and turned around to say hello to his ex wife’s niece and was doubly struck dumb by the fact that Tasha, the female janitor he’d fucked in a supply closet earlier in the day, stood next to her at the door. He vaguely recalled Tasha telling him that she was Tina’s roommate this semester.

“This is Natasha Turner, one of my roommates. Ashley was goin’ out with some obnoxious boy, and I didn’t want to leave Tasha all alone on a Friday night with nothing to do but herself,” Tina said with a bark of laughter. “I hope you don’t mind, Shelly.”

Shelly shook her head, “No, I don’t mind at all! The more the merrier, right?” She slipped a wink in Melvin’s direction. He already did not like the direction the night was turning, and it had barely started. Tasha caught Melvin’s gaze and held it, a funny look on her face.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr...?” Tasha stuck her hand towards Melvin, and he took it in a firm and steady handshake. Funny that they were pretending to not know each other, and also that he and Tasha had already experienced one another sexually but truly didn’t know each other’s last names. Melvin could hear the witch’s musical laughter ringing in his ears. No doubt that she would be getting a helluva kick out of all of this.

“MacMuffin. Melvin. Nice to meet you, Ms. Turner,” Melvin said, and their pseudo-introductory handshake ended. Melvin shied his eyes away from Tasha’s knowing expression. He couldn’t go through the whole evening like this, trying to cover up his sordid past at every corner, at every turn. The worst thing about it was that the events of his sordid past existed only from the past two days. They were like fresh cuts that still bled if you poked them.

“Well, we don’t want to keep you from your fun,” Melvin said. “So I think we’ll go ahead and get going.”

“Don’t be silly,” Shelly interjected, standing between Melvin and Courtney and slipping her hands around both of their waists, pulling them close. “We can all stick together if you two want. Might be exciting!”

Courtney grinned, dimples forming at the corners of her mouth, and she said sweetly, “It’s all up to Melvin.”

“Don’t worry, Uncle Mel. If you’re worried ‘bout privacy, you’ll barely know we’re there,” Tina said, flashing him her widest smile.

***

Bridget slowly stroked Joey into her lovely mouth, her other hand not forgetting to massage his balls with gentle caresses. Bridget enjoyed the way Joey ran his fingers through her hair; for such a muscular man, his touch was surprisingly soft and sweet. Her tongue slid on the underside of his shaft, and Bridget worked her mouth so that it twisted and turned over Joey’s erection, her tongue twirling, careful not to miss any potentially sensitive nerve-endings. All the hours spent practicing on Brenda’s dildo were finally paying off. She slurped up her excess saliva, the noise wet and loud in her own ears. She slipped his cock out of her mouth for a moment.

“I hope you like your blow jobs sloppy,” she told him, carefully wiping her mouth. She’d have to reapply her lipstick after this particular session.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Joey breathed. Some of his dark, black hair was matted to his forehead with sweat.

Then the walkie talkie buzzed to life, “Red team this is gold team. Do you copy? Come in. Over.” Joey held the walkie talkie in his hand and raised his eyebrows. Bridget smiled slyly.

“This’ll be interesting,” she said, her head dipping back down to Joey’s crotch. She devoured his cock to the root. She knew she would have this guy eating out the crack of her ass for the rest of her life if she wanted him to; it was strange discovering that she could hold such power over a man. Maintaining his composure, Joey mashed the talk button.

“Gold team, this is red team. We copy you. What’s shaking? Over,” Joey said in as natural a voice as he could muster. Bridget was careful not to scrape Joey’s skin with her teeth as her mouth upturned in a smile. Joey wasn’t going to be able to take much more of this, she could tell. First Melvin, then Joey the security hunk. Bridget wondered who would be next; she felt as if the world was her oyster and she desperately wanted to find a pearl.

“The M-Man just phoned in from his cell. We have a complication. Over,” Richie’s voice said, garbled with static. Bridget felt Joey’s body go tense under her, and she prepared herself for an onslaught of his cum. Her hand on the underside of his balls felt the jizz rush out of his sack and pump through some inner tube; it was a feeling both weird and cool to her.

“Compli...” Joey began and then stammered as his cock burst in Bridget’s mouth, and his breathing became jagged heaves. Bridget felt his semen forcefully spurt into the back of her throat, and she was careful to let herself relax rather than choke and swallowed it down to the last dribbling drop. She sucked the last of it out as if she was guzzling a milk shake through a straw.

“Complication? What do you mean? Over,” Joey said as his breathing became normal, and Bridget slurped up the last drizzles of his orgasm.

***

Melvin threw some water in his face in the bathroom. Having called Richie with the latest developments, he wasn’t sure how to proceed. How had he gotten roped into spending his evening with not only Courtney (which he would have preferred) but all of her friends (all of which who had slept with him or watched him sleep with them)? The water felt cool and crisp on his warm skin, but it didn’t do the trick. Maybe once they got out of the apartment, he could slip away with Courtney.

Even then, he’d still have Abigail to worry about. Considering that, perhaps it was good that he’d be leaving with a large group of girls. Abby wouldn’t know which one was Courtney (with the exception of Tina, of course, seeing as she was Abby’s niece), and Melvin could use them as a buffer to make his unseen escape. He sighed. At least, he could find a bright side to all of this. He’d have to find a way to get alone with Courtney.

Plus, he knew his friends had his back. Richie and Bridget and their respective dates were running surveillance for him, and he knew that he could count on... well, he could count on Bridget at least. He wasn’t so sure about Richie; he’d be trying too hard to get his “wicky sticky” with Brenda, Bridget’s twin sister.

Melvin dabbed himself dry with a towel, replaced his glasses and stepped out of the bathroom. All of the girls turned to look expectantly at him, momentarily silent from whatever that were discussing. They were a good looking group; he couldn’t deny that. He swallowed.

“Let’s roll,” he said, trying to push the feelings of dread to the back of his mind.

***

Abigail Sanderson watched Melvin walk out of the apartment complex through a pair of binoculars she’d bought at a nearby gun and ammunition store earlier that night.

She had almost given up on him and had bided her time watching some blonde chick give head to a dude parked in front of the building she was scoping out, but then suddenly there he was, her ex husband in the flesh. She straightened up in her seat and peered through the binoculars. A young group of hotties surrounded Melvin, one of which Abigail recognized as her niece, Tina, the little traitorous slut.

Abigail took her hand out of her unbuttoned jeans where she had recently been playing with herself while watching the horny couple, wiped off her sticky fingers and focused her complete attention on Melvin’s group. She wondered which one was Courtney, and she put her money on the redhead. The other girls were hot, but the redhead was hot in a different kind of way, more of a cute sweetness really, a way that a sensitive guy like Melvin would appreciate. The redhead also seemed to be walking closest to Melvin, so it would make sense that she would be the one that had caught Melvin’s oh so sexy eyes.

Abigail’s free hand went unconsciously to the gun at her side. This was the other purchase that she had made at the gun shop; all it took was a few dollars under the table and a few seductive bats of her large amber eyes, and the owner overlooked any law that might have kept her hands off the weapon for at least a few days. The manipulation of men was one of Abigail’s better talents.

She didn’t know why she had bought the gun and wasn’t sure what she planned to do with it. The thought of yelling “If I can’t have him, no one can!” and going on a shooting spree seemed way too cliché in her mind; she had to believe she was above something so lame. Then again, why did she buy a gun in the first place? She didn’t really plan to use it on that Courtney girl, did she?

All she knew was that she wanted Melvin for herself and no one else.

***

Richie Golding tucked the walkie talkie between the seats and started the car’s ignition. He peered through the driver’s side window and watched as Melvin and the girls separated to their own vehicles: Melvin and Courtney into his BMW, the other girls into a small red sports car. How had Melvin lucked out enough to spend the evening with such four beautiful women? Richie turned to Brenda; she looked about ready to die of boredom, her head resting on her hands, her face slack.

“I hope you like Chinese,” he said and put the car into drive. Melvin had told him where he and the girls were headed, and Richie had passed the information one to Red team, Bridget and Joey. They would all meet up at the restaurant, and who knew what would happen next? Richie hoped that it would be as entertaining as he suspected.

“Anything’s better than sitting in this car for another hour,” Brenda said and peered through the window with her light blue eyes.

***

The Red Dragon was considered the best place for Chinese in the state, and Melvin had some difficulty finding a parking spot. Finally, he found one and felt relieved that he had made reservations earlier in the day. He hoped that either Richie or Brenda had done the same. As for Shelly, Tina, and Tasha, they might have some trouble getting a table which was no skin off Melvin’s back as far as he was concerned. The quicker he could be rid of them, the better.

Melvin led Courtney into the restaurant and was met by a tall, sour-faced Chinese man in a tight suit, standing behind a low podium. He was younger than most maitre d’s Melvin had encountered and more handsome. His black hair was slicked back over his head, and he straightened a red bow tie as they approached him. He gave Melvin a thin smile.

“May I help you?” the man said in perfect English with no discernible accent. Melvin felt a small pang of disappoint; he thought that polite waiters unable to speak good English were almost an obligatory stereotype which only added to the atmosphere of Chinese eating establishments.

“Yes,” Melvin replied. “I have a reservation for MacMuffin.” The man did not giggle at Melvin’s last name, but looked down at the open book before him with a searching gaze. The man must have heard his share of ridiculous last names in his business. His finger tapped against one page.

“Ah, yes. Here we are. Table for two?” the man said.

“Make that five,” Shelly’s voice said cheerily from over Melvin’s shoulder. He hadn’t heard her or the others come in. He thought that they would still be circling the parking lot, looking for a space. Melvin cursed their good luck. The Chinese gentleman looked up from his book, and a frown parted his face, his brow furrowing.

“There’s no reservation for five. I’m not sure we will be able to do that. You may have to wait for some time,” he said, his face turning to Melvin for a reaction.

“That ain’t necessary,” Tina said, walking towards the man and whispering something in his ear. Melvin couldn’t make out what it was, and he was sure that he didn’t want to know. Tina wore a slinky, short green dress, and the Chinese gentlemen had to forcibly remove his wide eyes from the swell of her bosom. Tina finished whatever she said to him, and the man nodded.

“Follow me,” he said. Melvin exchanged looks with Tina, but she merely shrugged at him and followed the Chinese man. They were led to a far back table. The man snapped his fingers, and two young men popped out of nowhere with extra chairs. The Chinese gentleman and his minions disappeared a moment later. Once seated, Melvin could contain his curiosity no longer.

“What did you say to him?” he asked Tina. Tina’s eyebrows raised, and she leaned back into her chair. A sly smile curved his lips.

“Nothin’ much. Just a few sweet nothin’s,” she said.

“Yeah, right. I’ll bet it was nothing,” Tasha replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “That guy’s a friend of ours from the university, Bruce Chen or something. He’s had his eyes on Tina here all semester.”

Tasha looked much different than she had earlier in the day, when she was restrained within a sweltering tan uniform. She had on a glittery blue shirt and a pair of tight jeans and looked absolutely beautiful. Her long brown curls flowed around her neck and shoulders, framing her exquisite face. She kept flashing smug looks in Melvin’s direction, and he did his best to not notice them and focused on Courtney.

Suddenly, Tina pushed her chair back, stood from the table, and said, “Excuse me for a moment, ladies and Uncle Melvin. I need to use the facilities.”

She walked off towards the restrooms, and Melvin caught sight of the Chinese man who had seated them watching her and then following her towards the women’s room. Melvin felt a churning in his guts, thinking about the way that Tina had whispered to the man. He hoped none of the other women noticed. His ex wife’s niece sure got around.

Tina’s words from earlier in the day came back to him: “Uncle Melvin, I’m a freshman in college now. Suckin’ and fuckin’ is kinda what I do.”

After a few moments, Bridget Briswell’s voice said, “Melvin, is that you?”

Everyone turned to face her. It was the first “accidental” run-in of the night on the agenda, and Melvin knew that Richie would be close behind her. Bridget wore a tight red dress, one that accentuated the curves of her slim figure. Next to her was a large, muscular man with jet black hair and a face that would have allowed him to star in at least B-quality action movies. Melvin stood to greet them.

“Bridget? Hi!”

“Hello, this is my friend, Joey Dangerfield. Joey this is Melvin MacMuffin, a client of mine.”

Melvin grinned as he took Joey’s hand. Dangerfield? With a name like that, the guy was begging to be put into action films, battling the likes of Van Damme, Stallone, or even The Rock.

“Bridget? Melvin?” Richie Golding appeared out of nowhere, Brenda Briswell clinging to his arm. Brenda did not look pleased to be there, and her eyes popped wide when she saw that Bridget, her twin sister, had on the EXACT SAME red dress that she was wearing.

“Bridget!”

Bridget turned and squealed, “Brenda!”

To everyone else, it looked more like one person gawking into a mirror’s reflection than two separate twins, shocked and more than a little pissed that the other had chosen the same dress for the evening. Richie and Joey exchanged terrified glances; there was no way to tell the two women apart.

***

A back room in the restaurant served as a kind of makeshift office with a variety of filing cabinets, safes, and adding machines. A desk sat in the far side of the room, but it was on a soft velvet couch pushed back against the left wall that Tina Swift spread her legs wide as the Chinese gentleman ate her sopping pussy. She’d always had a thing for Asians.

Bruce’s tongue swirled over her hard, protruding clitoris, his fingers dipping in and out of her, her wetness gathering as he gained speed. She fisted a hand in his dark hair and pulled him up to her face to exchange sloppy, moist kisses. She could taste herself on him, a sweet and tangy flavor, something that only turned her on more.

“I didn’t know you worked here, Bruce,” she said, breaking their kiss. The man smiled back at her, wiping off some of the juices that glistened around his lips with his sleeve.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Tina. For instance, I bet you didn’t know my parents owned this place,” he replied.

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” she said, stroking his face with one hand.

“You never asked. All you ever ask me for are answers for our exams. Speaking of which, did I miss much in class today?” he said.

Bruce sat next to Tina in more than one of her classes, and they had achieved a kind of scholarly friendship over the last semester, one that consisted mostly of study groups and Bruce tutoring her on just about every subject the university had to offer. Tina had been desiring to take their casual friendship to the next level for a few weeks. What a coincidence that she had run into him! However, it seemed like a good day for coincidences.

“Maybe. I’ll make you a deal, Brucie. You make me cum, and I’ll let ya see my notes,” she said, her lips curling impishly. Bruce laughed.

“You’ve got a deal,” he said and began to kiss down her neck and chest.

***

“So Bridget, what is it you do?” Tasha Turner asked, bringing a glass of wine to her lips and taking a cool sip. Her brown eyes glowed in the soft light of the restaurant. Tasha hoped that their food would be out soon and vaguely wondered what was keeping Tina. Shelly, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind that Tina was gone; she bided her time by teasing Courtney and Melvin with giggly questions.

“I’m Brenda. That’s Bridget,” the blonde replied in a low voice, cutting her eyes and pointing at her twin.

Tasha shrugged; it wasn’t like it was HER fault that the two twins were identical in both looks and dress tonight. Tasha thought there was no reason to get offended, but Brenda seemed hopelessly irritable for some odd reason. Perhaps because Brenda’s date seemed more interested in her twin sister. Tasha, personally, would take either one of them or better: both at the same time. She enjoyed the mental visualization she had of creating a reversed, naked female Oreo.

Hearing her name, Bridget turned and said, “Yes?”

“Nothing,” said Brenda curtly and turned her attention to her wine glass. Bridget shrugged.

Oblivious to this conversation, Richie Golding felt his hand swatted away from what he thought was Brenda’s upper thigh. He started.

“Richie, what are you doing?” the twin said under her breath, turning towards him.

“Sorry, Brenda. I thought...”

“Brenda? I’m Bridget. She’s Brenda,” Bridget whispered harshly.

“Yes?” Brenda replied, turning towards them.

“Nothing,” said Bridget. Brenda’s eyes narrowed.

Richie groaned. He wasn’t even drunk yet, and he couldn’t keep track of who was who. It was going to be a long night.

***

Tina pleasurably squirmed under Bruce as he pushed into her with swift, fluid glides, her tight nude body rubbing against his own. He plunged his hands into her cute blonde curls and felt her own fingers digging into the flesh of his ass, desperately pulling him deeper inside of her moist pussy. She uttered her approval of Bruce’s thrusts with soft, throaty moans, her eyes rolling back into her head.

“Oh, baby. I’ve wanted this for so long,” she whispered and sighed as a bolt of pleasure plowed through her stomach. It was true; she had fantasized about Bruce’s athletic body on top of her own for some time. Bruce’s eyes were clenched tight as he concentrated hard, keeping himself from cumming; Tina was so tight and felt so good, it was an effort to hold himself together. He knew better than to look into her sparkling blue eyes or at her pert bouncing breasts or he would just loose it.

It didn’t take long before Tina felt her fingers and toes start to become tingly, and she knew the first climax was near for her. She’d been lucky today in the orgasm department; perhaps she was finally at her sexual peak. Or perhaps she just had hit the male jackpot. Either way, she wasn’t going to complain.

Bruce felt Tina clench under him, her face contorting as she bit her bottom lip to stifle a scream of passion, and then she squirmed violently, her hair flipping back and forth as she twisted her head from side to side as she came on Bruce’s impressive cock. Bruce quickened his own thrusts, hoping to meet her climax with one of his own.

“No, no. Not yet,” she begged as her breathing slowed to normal. Bruce allowed himself to slow down and looked questioningly at her. Tina covered her face with her hands for a moment and blew a long sigh through her lips. When she took her hands away, Bruce saw that her cheeks were a little red with a blush.

“I don’t know how to say this BUT...” she began and giggled, pleased with her pun. Bruce said nothing but waited for her to continue. Tina licked her pink lips.

“Wanna stick it in my butt?” she said in her twangy southern accent. Bruce’s eyes widened. Was she kidding?

In reply, Bruce flipped her over on her stomach, Tina landing with a soft “off!” escaping her lips. Tina laughed and stuck out her ass provocatively, holding her ass cheeks open with her hands. Lathering his cock with a thick mixture of spit and Tina’s juices, Bruce slowly pressed the meaty helmet of his cock against her asshole and sighed as it popped through into her ass. Tina groaned. She couldn’t explain why she liked getting her ass fucked and licked; it was just one of those things. She mentally thanked the male cheerleader that had first tossed her salad and opened her eyes to the universe of anal pleasure.

Bruce had never experienced anal sex in his entire life and especially hadn’t ever felt something as tight as being inside of Tina Swift’s ass. The thought that he was pumping his stiff cock into the bottom of the cute blonde that sat next to him in Advanced Calculus only made the situation hotter as far as he was concerned. He knew he would not be able to last very long, but he tried his hardest to maintain control. He ran the day’s specials inside of his head, trying to give some distraction to the unbelievable pleasure he was feeling. Moo Goo Gai Pan. $ 9.95. General Tsao’s... oh, she felt so damn good!

Tina’s perfect globes of ass cheeks clapped loudly against his skin as he thrust in and out of her. Bruce could feel sweat beginning to drip down his forehead and the side of his cheeks and could see it glistening on Tina’s arching back. A bead slipped between his lips, and he licked it up, a salty flavor invading his mouth.

“Oh, fuck! Aren’t I a slut?” Tina cried as Bruce let her have it with a deep thrust. She moaned. The heat of Bruce’s cock in her ass was an amazing sensation. She absolutely loved this.

“Oh, yeah. You’re a fucking anal whore,” Bruce breathed as he continued to fuck her. Bruce grabbed a handful of blonde curls and pulled it a little as he continued to pump, his thrusts becoming more and more rapid. Tears began to form in Tina’s eyes as he fucked her, her hands working at her own pussy, her swollen clit caught between two rubbing fingers.

Just before Tina had managed to get herself worked up to orgasm, she felt Bruce suddenly pull out of her and spray her backside with a copious amount of warm semen. Dammit! She supposed her luck with orgasms had to end sometime.

Bruce collapsed onto the couch next to her, his cock still slick with various juices. It flapped as he sat down, reminding Tina of those old door stoppers, the ones that she would push down as a kid to hear their metallic “twaaaang” as they bounced up and down or left to right until back to normal.

“From now on, that’s how our study sessions should be,” he sighed. Tina snuggled up next to him, her asshole still burning slightly from the fucking it had gotten, a feeling that Tina found strangely pleasurable.

“You better believe it,” she said with a girlish giggle.

***

Abigail sat in her car, looking at the gun in her lap. What the hell was she doing? What the hell was she thinking? She looked up and out the windshield at the Chinese restaurant, The Red Dragon. Melvin used to take her there all the time when they were married, and she had hated it. Now? She only wished she was inside with him. She wanted to confront Melvin and his trampy slut of a date, but she certainly didn’t need a gun for that. Did she?

She ran a hand through her short dark hair. She had to get Melvin back, but why? She was the one who had divorced him. What had changed her mind? The time she’s spent with him at lunch? It didn’t make any sense, but then again, very few things in life do. Did it matter?

“I have to get him back,” she whispered to herself, wondering why she was following her ex husband with a gun in her hands.