Ok, so it's been awhile since the last chapter of Melvin, but this one's substantially longer than previous chapters, so hopefully, that makes up for it a little bit. In case you don't remember what happened last, here's a (not so) short re-cap.
Last time on a very special Melvin: Not only was Courtney's roommate, Shelly, Melvin's waitress from earlier in the day, the one that had watched Melvin couple with his ex wife's niece in the men's room, but she was going out on a date that very night with Tina. Yes! His ex wife's niece, the one he had banged! Tina shows up with Tasha, another woman that Melvin had coupled with, only this time in the supply closet at his building earlier in the day. Worse, they all decide they will have a group date together, much to Melvin's disdain.
Well, Richie and Bridget (Melvin's friend and lawyer, respectively) are watching Melvin's back for the likes of Melvin's ex wife, Abigail. They all meet up at a Chinese restaurant (where Tina secures them a table by hooking up with the maitre d), only for Bridget and her twin sister to find out they are wearing the same dress, and no one can tell them apart... whoops!
Meanwhile, Abigail is stalking Melvin, and for some reason, she's bought a gun. What the hell is she thinking? Such is the way a deranged ex wife's mind works, one supposes...
Chapter 9
“It’s funny,” Courtney said after swallowing a mouthful of rice and shrimp. Dimples formed at the corners of her cute smile. “You’ve been looking at me with big, puppy dog eyes for months, and now I’m here with you, you don’t even know my last name.
Melvin smiled back at her. “Well, let me guess. I’m pretty good at these kind of things.” He paused, observing the unconscious tilt of her head as she waited from him to continue. A red bang of hair floated into her eyes, and she deftly blew it away by blowing a burst of air from her mouth. Melvin could look at her for days, doing nothing else, and be content.
“Let’s consider everyone here at the table. Ok, there’s me, Melvin MacMuffin. The twins, Bridget and Brenda Briswell. Then there’s Tasha Turner and Shelly Stone. Hmm, if we were to keep with this theme of alliteration, I’d say you’re last name is something like... Cross or Covington or Corningstone or Cotten,” he said.
“No, no, no, and double no,” Courtney replied with a laugh. “It’s Brown.”
Melvin leaned back in his chair, considered it and said, “What a perfectly normal yet beautiful name. I’m impressed.”
Courtney simply blushed and stabbed at her shrimp and rice with her fork. She’d tried the chopsticks and found she was hopeless with them. She hated being so clumsy, especially in front of Melvin, but he didn’t seem to fare much better with the chopsticks either. Of course, he could have just been being nice and failing on purpose so she wouldn’t feel bad. What a great guy.
Out of nowhere, Tina Swift returned from wherever she had disappeared and plopped back down into her chair with a sigh. She flashed a bright smile at Melvin and Courtney.
“You two are too cute for words,” she said, searching the plate of food before her with hungry eyes and grabbing at her chopsticks.
“So cute, it makes me want to puke,” Tasha Turner replied with a laugh. She held a long green vegetable between two chopsticks before popping it into her grinning mouth.
“Where have you been, Ms. Swift?” asked Shelly Stone, somewhat suspicious about her date vanishing for so long. Tina leaned over and kissed her softly on the cheek. Richie Golding caught a sight of this from across the table and felt a strange stirring in his pants. He couldn’t help it. He had just observed a girl kiss another girl, after all, even if it was just on the cheek.
“Nothin’ for you to worry your sexy li’l head about,” Tina said with her southern slur, her hand reaching under the table to caress Shelly’s warm thigh. Richie had to force his eyes away and concentrate on his own date, Brenda the Ice Queen. The sacrifices one had to make to be a so-called gentleman.
***
The scene at Melvin’s table was admittedly a chaotic one. Three tables had been pushed together, and it was hard to keep track of all the conversations going on at once. Tasha chatted with Shelly and Tina; Bridget chatted with Joey and Brenda and Richie; and Courtney and Melvin chatted with each other and every one else.
Shelly kept laughing at everything, bits of rice flying out of her mouth like tiny white missiles. One flew across the table and clung to Tasha’s face which she wiped away gracefully with a disgusted look.
But the food was delicious and everyone seemed to be having a good time, even Brenda who was coming around and enjoying herself. She laughed loudly at a joke Joey told about a Rabbi, a Catholic priest and a Southern Baptist at a Mexican brothel. Melvin, personally, didn’t get it.
The hardest part about dinner was deciding what they would do next. Melvin hadn’t planned on so many people, and his original thought was to separate from Bridget and Richie and their respective dates after dinner, ending up alone with Courtney. Unfortunately, the trio of young hotties: Tina, Shelly, and Tasha wanted to keep the group together and go somewhere to continue the party; they were just having too much fun to want to separate yet.
“The more the merrier,” Shelly kept repeating, her brown pigtails bobbing. Melvin couldn’t have disagreed more, but he didn’t want to cause a scene and be the one labeled as a “party pooper.”
“There’s an awesome club just down the street from here, like in walking distance. We could go there for awhile and get some drinks, maybe dance,” Courtney suggested, and the matter was settled.
Even though the last time he’d attended a concert his ear drums had burst, Melvin would have agreed with anything Courtney might say, and if she had told him that she thought that they should all drink poisoned kool-aide and set themselves on fire, Melvin would have been the first to do so. It was her dimples, he decided; they were hypnotically cute.
The others seemed to agree the night club was a good idea, and Melvin flagged down their waiter for the check. In moments, they walked out of the Chinese restaurant and savored the cool night air.
***
Abigail Sanderson, Melvin’s ex wife, watched them leave. Her car was parked far enough away under a large, shady oak to not be seen, and she sat low in the driver’s seat, her eyes peering through the open middle of the steering wheel. She took the binoculars away from her shimmering, deep brown eyes and tried to keep her boiling anger submerged. Those tramps should have stayed away from Melvin; he was much too good for any of them, especially the redhead that Abigail took to be Courtney, Melvin’s apparent date. Abigail blew air through her gnashed teeth.
She took the gun from its spot in the passenger seat and slipped it into her purse, the grip of it hard and cold in her hand. She still wasn’t sure what she planned to do with it, but who knew if it might come in handy? Might come in handy? What a ridiculous thought! She slapped an open palm against her forehead. Was she going nuts?
She leaned her head against the rim of the steering wheel and closed her eyes. What was she doing here? Why was she stalking her ex husband? What did she care if he wanted to waltz around the city tonight with a parade of nubile, young babes? But for some reason... she DID care.
Melvin was hers; she had worn his wedding ring. Yes, she had given it back and upgraded her spouse, but now she wanted Melvin back. She had dibs on him because he had been hers before, right?
She pushed back from the steering wheel and leaned back in the car seat. She brought up one hand and slapped herself gently in the face. Her cheek stung from the blow.
“Get a hold of yourself, Abigail. You gotta start thinking straight,” she whispered. But even though she knew it was crazy, knew it didn’t make any sense, knew no one would understand, she wanted Melvin to be hers and hers alone, again and forever.
***
The Deep End was the name of the club, blazing in blue neon letters under three blue neon curvy, triangular waves and above a double oak door painted red. As Melvin approached he could feel the bass, drumming and thumping through the club’s walls and inside of his bones. He wasn’t much of a dancer, didn’t like large crowds and hated extremely loud noises; he wondered how he was going to survive the club. He would just have to tough it out, and it helped that Courtney was there with him. He would have been happy to go anywhere with the likes of her. Every time he looked at her and caught her sparkling hazel eyes, his stomach fluttered.
“Didn’t this place used to be a strip club?” Richie asked as they pushed through the doors. Shelley turned to answer him.
“Recently changed owners. Just renovated...” she began to explain, but then the music overtook them in a sweeping, crashing wave of sound. They would have to yell to be heard, so further conversation was out of the question. Shelley just shrugged and started to dance, her hips gyrating and her arms waving. Richie smiled, and his head began to nod with the beat. He turned to Brenda. Or was it Bridget? Impossible to tell which.
“I need a drink!” the blonde yelled and headed over to the bar. Richie watched her go, appraising the round curve of her bottom under her tight dress.
“Checkin’ out my sister?” the other twin said in his ear.
“Well, she’s my date, so it’s ok,” he yelled back.
“Stupid asshole, I’M your date!” Brenda Briswell cried and pulled him towards the dance floor. Richie felt his arms yanked nearly out of their sockets and stumbled after her. Tasha, Shelley, and Tina followed suit, forming a hip swaying trio as they grooved their way close to the stage.
Melvin looked up and saw some curvy, bikini clad women dancing seductively in some glass cages suspended from the ceiling. A live rock band boomed out a crescendo of guitar through the speakers. The scratchy yelling of the lead female singer seemed vaguely familiar, and Melvin turned to check out the band. He should have known better than to be surprised when he saw the singer was none other than the purple-haired pizza girl that he and Bridget had enjoyed sexually only a night before.
Melvin cursed his ridiculous bad luck.
“Let’s get something to drink,” he said to Courtney, leaning towards her ear, and she nodded back at him. Melvin wanted to stay away from the dance floor and the band for as long as he could. He certainly didn’t need the purple-haired singer recognizing him from onstage, and he wanted to warn Bridget before she discovered who the lead singer was for herself.
Sauntering up to the bar next to Joey and Bridget, Melvin cupped a hand over Bridget’s ear and whispered into it, “Check out the singer. Look familiar?”
Bridget glanced towards the stage, and her head snapped straight up like a turtle startled out of its shell. A bright, broad smile flashed across her face.
“Holy shit!” she cried cheerily. “Let’s go dance!” She pulled at Joey’s wrist, but he held her off with a shake of his handsome head. A mug of foamy beer was held precariously in his other hand, and an uncertain look narrowed his features.
“Not much of a dancer,” he replied over the beat of the music. Melvin didn’t know much about punk rock, but he could tell that the purple haired chick’s band was pretty good. Everyone in the club seemed to be digging the hell out of them. Courtney stepped towards Bridget and Joey, letting go of Melvin’s arm. Melvin felt a pang of disappointment as he lost contact with her.
“I’ll go with you,” she offered, looking questioningly at Melvin.
“Yeah, sure. Go with Courtney,” Melvin said to Bridget, and the two women scurried to the dance floor, Bridget’s arm wrapped around Courtney’s trim waist. Melvin and Joey watched as they began to dance with one another, Bridget gliding behind Courtney and placing her hands on the young redhead’s hips as she pressed into the back Courtney’s body with her own.
“They’re something else,” Joey said and brought the mug of beer to his mouth for a long swig. He smacked his lips approvingly, trying not to be too obvious about the mental visualization he was having of the two women together... naked... touching each other... a tingly shiver tickled up his spine.
“You better believe it,” Melvin said in reply and turned to order a beer. He wasn’t normally a drinker but tonight was a special occasion. Things seemed to be going pretty smoothly, and they hadn’t seen any sign of Abigail all evening. Maybe Richie had been exaggerating about her desire to hunt Melvin down.
The bartender was an attractive, bleached blonde who looked more like a surfer chick than a bartender. Melvin ordered his beer, thinking that on any other night he might try the love potion on such a smiling cutie. He was happy to know that he didn’t feel the need to tempt her now that he was with Courtney. He passed over some cash and thanked her as she handed Melvin his beer. She slipped Melvin a sly wink before turning to the next customer.
“Hey, what’s your ex wife look like?” Joey said, leaning over.
“Short black hair. Attractive. Surgically enhanced hooters,” Melvin ticked off Abigail’s features on his fingers with a laugh. Joey Dangerfield didn’t smile back, but his face darkened. His jaw clenched. Melvin was again reminded that Joey had the physical attributes of an action star.
“I think she’s coming this way,” Joey said in a low voice, and Melvin barely heard him. However, it was enough to chill his heart, and Melvin pivoted around on his heels and searched the growing crowd with his eyes.
It only took a moment to spot her. Abigail. His ex wife.
She had already found and zeroed in on him through the crowd and snaked towards his position at the bar with long, purposeful strides, her dark hair swishing to keep up. A certain resoluteness held her face, and Melvin didn’t like the looks of the expression. Abigail was the kind of woman who always got what she wanted and couldn’t handle it when something was out of her reach. Melvin knew that this time, above all others, he was finally beyond her reach.
How Abigail would react to this discovery was anyone’s guess.
“Should I head her off?” Joey offered, his jaw stony and set. Melvin shook his head in the negative. Having another man save him from a woman was almost too pathetic for words, and Melvin was pretty positive he could handle the likes of Abigail on his own. He had already done so once today, after all.
“No, let her come. We need to finish this nonsense for good,” Melvin said, and Joey nodded in understanding.
The tall, muscular man took in Abigail with an appraising glare. She was a looker, no doubt about it: pretty face, dark flowing hair, athletic yet curvy build, and a set of fiery amber eyes. Joey could understand how Melvin had been sucked into a doomed relationship; any other man would probably make the same mistake faced with the likes of this woman. That was exactly what made her so dangerous.
“Melvin, we need to talk,” she yelled over the banging of a drum solo as she came to a stop in front of Melvin. Her chest heaved under her white, buttoned shirt. Melvin couldn’t help but think about what he was giving up if he turned her down. But then again, he was only giving up two delicious breasts, a hot body and not much else. Abigail had nothing to offer that wasn’t physical.
“So talk,” he replied curtly, his face not betraying any sense of emotion. He took a long sip from his beer mug and waited for Abigail to reply.
“Can’t we go somewhere more private?” she said in exasperation, her brow furrowing. She wanted Melvin to give some indication that her presence had an effect on him whether good or bad, just a sign that he cared.
“Nah. Here’s fine,” Melvin replied. His face was unmoved, set in stone and expressionless. He knew that his indifference would frustrate Abby more than anything, and hopefully, she might give up after awhile. Unfortunately, “give up” was not in Abigail’s vocabulary.
“Melvin, I know this isn’t the time or the place, but... when I saw you today, I don’t know how to explain it, but... you had this EFFECT on me, ya know? And I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About US,” Abigail said loudly, struggling to be heard over the roar of the band and the dancing crowd.
“There’s no us,” Melvin said, cupping his hand next to his mouth, forming a human bullhorn with his fingers. Joey watched on silently next to Melvin, noticing that Abigail’s left hand stayed hidden in her purse. Strange...
“How can you say that? Melvin, I fucked up, I know! But... but... give me another chance, and you’ll see, that I’ll fix everything. It’ll be the opposite of what it was before. We can work things out, I’m sure of it!” Abigail cried.
Melvin wiped his mouth and gave her a wry smile.
“Abby, you’re married. What about your family?” he responded with a disappoving shake of his head.
“Fuck them! I want YOU!” she said. Her eyes went all fiery in the red blinking lights from the stage. Abigail pressed closer and snuggled against Melvin’s chest, but he pushed her forcefully back with his free hand, hard enough that Abigail wobbled on her feet, almost losing her balance. One hand stayed in her purse as she steadied herself with the other, grabbing the bar.
“See? That’s why it’ll never work out. You never think of anyone but yourself,” Melvin replied, finished off his beer and thumped the empty mug against the counter. He surveyed his ex wife with cold eyes.
“Get lost. For good,” he said over his shoulder as he turned his back on her.
Abigail’s mouth gaped open, and her lips began to tremble in angry rejection. Red heat flushed through her cheeks. She attempted to set herself in the right frame of mind, to have some comeback or put down to shock Melvin back in his submissive place, but nothing came. Instead, she felt her fingers close around the handle of her gun, and her rising internal temperature come to a boil.
Joey watched her expression and the hand in her purse with a cool steady gaze. He’d seen his share of hysterical women over the years.
Abigail despised the cliché coming out of her mouth even as she began to say it, her mouth opening and spitting out the words, “Melvin MacMuffin, if I can’t have you...”
She started to lift her hand out of her purse. The grip of the gun was cold and hard in her sweaty palm. Melvin’s head turned, and his eyes widened in fear. He’d seen this scene enough in movies to know what was going to come out of her purse. The blonde bartender had just walked up to refill Melvin’s glass, and her face went slack as she saw what was happening.
“The fuck...” the blonde began to say. Melvin caught a glimpse of gray as the gun rose from Abby’s purse.
“No one w...” Abigail continued but was cut off as Joey Dangerfield caught her wrist while it was still in her purse, twisted the gun and purse out of her grip, and swiftly caught her in the gut with a punch before she could scream in pain.
Abigail’s breath rushed out of her with a whimper, and she crumpled into Joey’s arms, her heaving sobs muffled by his biceps.
“Let’s get her out of here,” Joey said, basically carrying Abigail in his arms and away from the crowd.
“Through the back,” the blonde bartender said, pointing them in the direction with her hands. Melvin followed Joey, his heart thudding against his chest. Everything seemed surreal. Like a waking dream. Was all of this an effect of the witch’s potion or was it all really happening?
Had Abigail just tried to kill him?
***
Not much was in the alley behind the club, just a couple of dumpsters and random trash, mostly fliers and stacks of old cardboard. The ground was still wet from the day’s downpour, and the air was chilly and damp, clinging to Melvin’s skin like cold sweat.
Joey threw Abigail against the opposite brick wall with more force than Melvin thought necessary. Abigail groaned and slumped to her knees, her dark hair hanging in clumps over her face. She held one hand over her stomach and the other over the back of her head. Melvin couldn’t help but feel sorry about her.
“Listen, boys. I don’t care what you do to this bitch, just don’t do anything that’s gonna come back and bite me in the ass. My boyfriend owns this place, and he doesn’t like heat, if you catch my drift,” the blonde waitress said, exchanging knowing glances with Joey. Joey nodded.
“Ok, I gotta get back to work. I am gonna send some guys out here to make sure nothing too illegal goes down. Deal?” the blonde said.
“Deal,” Joey replied. Melvin said nothing but merely kept his eyes on Abigail. She clutched her stomach and struggled to catch her breath in jagged heaves. Curled up on the cement, Abby apparently didn’t care that she was wallowing in wet filth next to the dumpsters. One side of her face was smeared with something black... oil or something. Melvin couldn’t tell what.
The blonde bartender disappeared back into the club and was replaced by two large men who would have fit nicely as the villains in the same action movie that Joey Dangerfield could star. They were both big and black, and it took Melvin a moment to realize that they looked similar enough to be brothers and probably were.
“What’s the fuckin’ story here?” the taller one asked. His lips spread in a disgusted snarl over a set of perfect, straight and white teeth as he took in the form of Abigail on her knees, sobbing.
“This lady here cheated on her husband, divorced him and then thought she could get him back, and when things didn’t go her way, she thought she’d take him off the market for everybody,” Joey said. He rummaged in her purse and pulled out Abigail’s gun.
“That’s some ice cold shit,” the shorter (yet still very tall) man said.
“I didn’t... I wasn’t,” Abigail gasped. “Melvin, I’m so... sorry. I... don’t know... what I was... thinking.”
Joey examined the gun and turned it over in his hands for a moment, and a look of realization blossomed across his face. Suddenly, he burst out laughing. He closed his eyes, and hot tears streamed down his face as his guffaws grew louder and uncontrollable. Melvin thought of the Joker from his old Batman comics, the issue where the Joker used this laughing gas that would make people laugh themselves to death. The expression Joey wore was eerily similar to the victims of Joker’s laughing gas, and Melvin felt a weird chill scurry up his spine.
Melvin and the two musclebound bouncers exchanged strange glances. Joey clutched his stomach, his chest heaving in laughter. He attempted to slow it down and explain himself.
“Oh, shit!” he finally said as he managed to gain some control. “Someone ripped you off good, baby. This is a fucking TOY!”
Abigail groaned, and her head sunk to the wet ground. Some of her hair dipped into a greasy puddle, but she didn’t seem to notice. She should have known better than to trust that stupid gun and ammo dealer; she was supposed to be able to read men like open books. Yet another failure. And what could she do about it? Tell the police that she’d tried to buy a gun illegally and had gotten duped? Not likely.
“So what you gonna do with this bitch?” the taller man said, rubbing his hands together like a starving child preparing to dig into a surf and turf dinner. The only thing he was missing was a bib with a big red lobster print.
Joey shrugged and tossed the toy gun into the dumpster. It fell into the bin with a dull clang along with the rest of the garbage. His face grew contemplative.
Melvin only watched. The situation was in Joey’s hands; Melvin wanted no part of it. He had no desire for revenge on the hapless, sobbing woman in front of him. He just wanted to be done with her. The only thing he felt now was pity.
“What we need to do is humiliate her. Make her remember that my buddy, Melvin here, was, is and always will be too good for the likes of her. We need to make her feel the same way Melvin felt when she ditched him for some kid,” Joey said, a twisted smile forming on his lips. Melvin’s raised his eyebrows.
“Bridget told me the whole story. Told me what a fucking bitch your ex wife was, and here she came tonight with a fake gun to prove it.” Dangerfield turned to Abigail who looked at him like a scolded child through the stringy clumps of hair matted to her face. “Only you didn’t know it was fake, did you? Stupid cunt,” Joey said.
Melvin didn’t like the steely, cold tone of voice Joey used with her. It sounded somehow... dangerous.
“I know what’ll we should do. To put this cunt in her place,” the shorter large man said from his position in the shadows. All Melvin could make out of his face was two glowing eyes and a set of pearly white teeth spread in a wide grin.
“What’s that?” the taller man asked.
The shorter large man explained what he had in mind, and when he finished, their silence hung thick in the air.
***
Abigail felt strong hands grab her armpits and lift her up to her knees. She felt drugged, the world a cloudy dream, and made no effort to struggle against the man. She glanced up and saw one of the large black men unbuckling his pants, unzipping his fly and fishing out an enormous erection. It was only inches from her face.
The world and its reality started to come back to her, all too quickly. What were they going to do to her? She moved her tear-streaked eyes and saw that the other black man, the one who had pulled her up, and Melvin’s friend were doing the same, reaching into their pants and slipping out hard cocks. They stood stiff in the cool night air. She turned to look at her ex husband. Melvin only watched on with a dull expression.
“I don’t think I can do this,” she heard Melvin say. His friend, Joey, snorted in reply.
“After everything she’s done to you, man? You’ve gotta at least watch,” he said, pulling on his hard, meaty pole. It strained anxiously in his hand like an animal happy to be out of its cage. Abigail felt a shiver of repulsion, one mixed with an odd feeling of fascinated anticipation, rush through her stomach. Unexpected yet delicious tingles tickled her nerves.
The three men began to stroke themselves over her, their hands wrapping and working frantically at their fleshy tools, and sick realization flushed Abigail’s cheeks. She’d seen tapes of this; her present husband kept some hidden in a shoe box in the closet. It was called what? Bukkake? She’d destroyed them all, naturally, but only after viewing the videos with only the company of her vibrator.
“No,” Abigail breathed and tried to scramble to her feet. One of the large men pushed her back down, and Abigail gritted her teeth as her knees banged against the unforgiving ground. She made no further attempt to struggle.
“Stay down,” the man hissed at her. Abigail shuddered. She knew that she should be appalled at what was happening to her, but she found that she wasn’t. Never had a man held any sort of authority over her, never had she been ordered down or dominated, and she discovered that some recess of her mind liked it. Now not one but three men had her on her knees, seemingly against her will, and they were going to relieve their cum-filled sacks on her untarnished, beautiful face.
Melvin watched on with sad eyes, but there was no mistaking the growing bulge in his pants. She could tell that he was turned on besides himself at what he saw. She shot him a pitiful look and turned to the men standing next to her. Abigail looked on at the three cocks being jerked off in her face and had to repress an urge to take one in her mouth. Is that what they wanted? To treat her like a slut and know she liked it?
She didn’t even realize that she had slipped a hand down her jeans until one of the two unnamed men grunted, “Fuck, look at this slut!” Abigail followed his gaze to the hand that was toying with herself. She couldn’t help herself. Flutters of lust trembled her lower extremities.
Then a huge black cock pressed against her lips, and Abigail allowed it to slip into her mouth. A man above her groaned in pleasure, and she wrapped her other hand around one of the other cocks and stroked it delicately. She closed her eyes and let the feeling of her hand in her jeans, fingering her clit and pressing a prying finger into the lips of her vagina, wash over her.
After a moment, curiosity getting the better of her, she peeked one eye open to see what effect all of this was having on Melvin. He leaned against the wall of the club, watching and doing nothing. Didn’t seeing Abby on her knees, taking a cock in her mouth, jerking off another while a third man stroked his meat in her face turn Melvin on?
She knew it did; the tent of his pants was proof enough. But Melvin wasn’t doing anything about it. She knew the reason why. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that she could still make him want her. Bastard.
Fuck him, Abigail thought. Why settle for one cock when you can have three? But the thought didn’t ease the pain of knowing she couldn’t have Melvin. She still loved him. But why? Why love a man who would let this happen to her and feel nothing but indifference?
Then the cock in her mouth was gone and was replaced by another a moment later. Joey Dangerfield moaned as he pushed his erection down her throat, and Abigail had to keep herself from choking. He pushed further, his cock touching the back of her throat, and she couldn’t help it. She coughed him out with a slobbery gag.
“Fuck!” one of the large men cried, the one she was jerking off with her hand, and his cock began to spasm in her grip. Abigail’s other hand began to work more furiously in her jeans, tickling her clit with her thumb, pumping three fingers into her pussy, and Abigail had never felt more closer to orgasm than she did as the first splatter of jism splashed against her cheek. Her own moisture was seeping through her fingers and drenching her expensive underwear with her juices.
The amount of cum the man spent was impressive. A white jet spurted into her black hair and clung like a wad of rubbery snot, and another drizzled across her nose and ran to her upper lip. She pressed her lips together, not wanting to lick any of it up... yet. Her forehead felt sticky and plastered with the stuff.
Abigail didn’t care, lost in her own world of pleasure. Is this what she had always wanted? After all the years of owning men and breaking them down, using her feminine wiles to bring them to her knees and crush their manhood... would this act of humiliation bring her to the climax she didn’t believe was possible?
Just when she thought the onslaught from the first man was over, his balls emptied onto her exquisite features, the other large man’s cock shot an unexpected load nearly into her left eye. Abigail blinked and forced her eye shut, feeling the slimy goo spill over her eyelid and stick to her lashes. The force of the second man’s climax was even more powerful than the first. She felt showered in cum; it ran over her chin and slid down her neck in creamy, white rivers.
Her fingers worked maniacally in her jeans, and she felt her body tense, a firecracker whose fuse had been suddenly lit. Shivers raced up and down her spine. Her entire body began to tremble. Behind her closed eyelids, her eyes crusted shut, Abigail began to see multicolored explosions.
“Shit, the cunt’s gonna cum,” the first large man said in clear surprise.
Abigail cried out in her glorious orgasm, her voice loud and passionate, and Joey Dangerfield filled her open mouth with a load of hot cum as his cock spurted over her. She didn’t seem to mind, focused on the incredible feeling that soared through her, making every individual part of her body scream in unified pleasure. Her face was a mask of streaky, white ooze. Her hair stuck to her face in stringy patches.
Joey jacked himself to a few last dribbles and sighed in relieved satisfaction. Abigail Sanderson sunk to the ground, her lungs heaving, gasping for air. Her white shirt clung wetly to her skin, her breasts visible under the material.
“Bitch so hot, gotta cool her off,” the second large man said. He picked up a bucket sitting by the back door, one full of dirty rain water. The bucket sloshed as he carried it towards her.
Abigail looked up just in time to see the man dump the bucket over her, the freezing water splashing over her face and hair. She didn’t have the energy to get up or move out of the way. She merely lay on the cement and let it happen. She felt drained, emotionally and physically empty, nothing left but the oncoming realization of what she’d done. She sobbed once, pathetically, holding herself with her arms and shivering.
Melvin shook his head, opened the back door to the club and left her there.
***
“Hey!” Bridget Briswell said when she saw Melvin reclaim his position at the bar, Joey only a step behind. Her face brightened with a wide smile. “Guess who wants us to come backstage!”
The blonde bartender appeared and handed Melvin a shot of something hard without asking, and Melvin nodded at her and downed it with a thrust of his head. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it burned nicely going down.
“Who?” Melvin said to Bridget, trying to not make too much of a face from the liquor. He already knew the answer, but why ruin the surprise? He placed the empty shot glass on the counter.
“Hey, old buddy,” said a familiar scratchy voice, and the purple haired pizza girl a.k.a. punk chick stepped from behind Bridget. She wore a torn purple dress with long purple boots and purple stockings, and Melvin thought she looked like a totally hot female Grimace, the big purple guy from MacDonald’s kid meals.
“Stage name’s Violet. Kinda sticking with the theme,” she said, explaining the amount of purple she wore, matching her hair.
“You guys rock!” Courtney said enthusiastically, standing next to Bridget. Melvin couldn’t help but notice the way Bridget had her arm wrapped around Courtney’s waist. He hadn’t been gone too long, had he?
“Thanks,” Violet replied with a wink. “You guys want to meet the band?”
“Can we?” Courtney said, looking like a little girl who just unwrapped a brand new Barbie dollhouse under her Christmas tree. Violet gave Melvin a sly look and smiled impishly. Then she turned back to Courtney.
“Come on, bring all your friends,” she said and pulled Courtney forward by the wrist. Courtney flashed Melvin a large smile as she passed and grabbed his wrist, pulling him with them.
“Rock n’ roll,” Melvin said with a low groan.
“You mean PUNK rock n’ roll,” Bridget said brightly, closing in behind him.
“Whatever,” Melvin said, wondering what would happen to him next.
***
Somehow the entire group managed to find their way backstage: Melvin, Courtney, Bridget, Joey, Brenda, Richie, Tasha, Tina, and Shelly. As they maneuvered through the crowd to the back, they kept picking each one up like a line of marching ants. Tina and Shelly were the two last, and they were found making out in a dark corner next to the stage, breathlessly groping each other through their clothes, much to Melvin’s disdain. But it wasn’t like Tina was his actual flesh and blood relative, and he figured he’d get over it.
The dressing room for the band was fairly large and comfortable with a few couches for sitting and tables covered in finger foods and drinks. Violet hopped on a counter in front of some mirrors, crossed her long legs and began introductions.
“This is Crow, our drummer,” she said and pointed to a thin man with long black hair and skin covered in tattoos. “And Red, lead guitar, and Hammer on bass.”
Red was another female whose clothes matched her name, only she seemed to be covered in some form of low hanging drapes. She was stick thin, her hair shoulder length and dyed dark red. Hammer, on the other hand, was man of muscles on top of muscles, and Melvin couldn’t find any semblance of a neck between his head and shoulders. The girls didn’t seem to mind.
“Ooo, I like Hammer the best,” Shelly whispered, and Tasha and Tina giggled. Even Brenda snickered at the joke, and Melvin could tell from her admiring expression that she liked Hammer the best as well. Richie, her official date for the evening, frowned as he also noticed her expression.
“Something to drink? Something to smoke? Something to inhale or inject?” Crow asked as he walked over, a joint held between his long fingers.
“THAT’S my boy!” Brenda exclaimed and met him halfway, taking the joint and inhaling deeply. Richie stumbled after her, but Crow already had an spindly arm around Brenda’s shoulders and pulled the joint of out her grasp.
“Shit, girl. Save some for the rest of us,” he said in a whispery voice.
Their hands over their mouths, whispering and giggling, Tasha, Tina, and Shelly walked over towards Hammer, the bassist looking like he had died and gone to heaven. Melvin couldn’t read minds, but he knew exactly what was going on in Hammer’s at that instant, the way his eyes lit up seeing three nubile young hotties headed in his direction. The only thing Melvin couldn’t know for sure was the specific positions Hammer had in mind.
“So have any pizza parties lately?” Violet asked, tapping Melvin on the shoulder with a slender finger, the nail painted (naturally) purple. She had a crooked smile on her face, the stud in her nose gleaming in the lights surrounding the mirror.
“Pizza party?” Courtney asked, confused. Melvin gulped. This was exactly where he didn’t want the conversation headed. He knew it had been a mistake to be swooped backstage with Violet and the rest of the girls he’d fucked in the last week: Tasha, Tina, and Bridget... and one voyeur, Shelly, who had watched him fuck Tina. It was a disaster waiting to happen.
“It’s nothing,” Melvin said, a little too quickly. Violet smoothed her frayed skirt, slid off the counter and took Courtney by the wrists, a wry smile on the purple haired woman’s lips. A sick feeling invaded the pit of Melvin’s stomach, but what could he do? Violet flashed Melvin a wicked look and winked before turning back to Courtney.
“Here, let me show you,” she said and led Courtney to one of the couches. Violet sat Courtney down and pulled at the bun holding up Courtney’s hair. Auburn hair unspooled around Courtney’s shoulders, and Melvin felt a pang of lust heat his face. She was so gorgeous. Violet ran a hand through Courtney’s silky hair and licked her lips with a long tongue. Courtney’s eyes were wide, her expression like a deer’s caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi.
Melvin started towards the two of them, opening his mouth to order Violet to stop, to take her hands off Courtney, but Joey Dangerfield’s hand pressed against his chest, stopping him.
“See what happens,” Joey said in a distracted way, unable to take his eyes off Violet and Courtney. Melvin gulped, his throat feeling dry, but he allowed Joey to hold him back. Bridget Briswell was at Joey’s side, her gleaming blue eyes also glued to the two women, her hands unconsciously rubbing Joey’s muscular chest.
“First, you want to see how the pizza tastes, right? So you gots to give it a nice big lick,” Violet said, spreading Courtney’s legs. Violet knelt between her milky thighs, separating Courtney’s knees by pushing them open with her hands. Violet slid Courtney’s checkered shirt up her creamy legs. Violet’s tongue flickered out of her mouth. For a moment, Courtney looked like a frightened puppy, her cheeks reddening, her eyes bulging in their sockets.
“I don’t... ooh,” she said in a trembling voice, shivering as Violet’s tongue tickled up her inner thigh. Melvin gasped. This was happening too fast. Why wasn’t Courtney stopping her? His mind raced, his heart thumping in his chest, his cock hardening in his pants as he watched his secret crush’s thighs licked by the pizza girl he’d fucked only days ago. He didn’t want to see Courtney deflowered this way, and yet, he did at the same time.
“Please, don’t... don’t...” Courtney breathed.
“Don’t stop? Don’t worry, dear. I won’t,” Violet said, and one hand moved up to slowly caress and knead Courtney’s breasts. Courtney tensed but did not try to stop her. Courtney didn’t know why she was feeling this way, so tingly and needy, but she wanted the feelings coursing through her to continue. She bit her bottom lip: the expression of a girl who knew what she was doing was naughty but didn’t dare stop.
Melvin’s own inner conflict had no apparent effect on his sexual organs; they were already beginning to stir in the crotch of his pants. He couldn’t take his eyes off Violet’s long pink tongue lashing out and wetting Courtney’s soft skin, couldn’t open his mouth to tell them to please stop, this isn’t what he had in mind when he’d asked Courtney out on a quiet date, just the two of them.
Violet pulled Courtney’s top down over her breasts, Courtney’s heaving mounds of flesh straining against the fabric of her lacy black bra. Courtney’s breaths became quicker, and as her lust overtook her, she began to rub her tits, taking time to pinch the hard nipples between her fingers. She licked her lips.
Melvin thought of Morgan the witch; she would enjoy the irony of Melvin’s situation, probably sitting in her shop and laughing her ass off at this very moment. Last week he wouldn’t have imagined any woman acting like this in front of him, and now he only wanted it to stop, if only to protect his mental image of the cute young waitress he’d been crushing on for almost a year.
Bridget’s hand wormed down the front of Joey’s pants, and Joey’s muscles tensed as he felt her take a hold of him. She began to kiss the side of his neck, her eyes still on Violet and Courtney.
Hammer had just gotten sight of Violet between Courtney’s legs, and he cried, “Holy shit! You go, Vi!” He had his arms around Tasha and Tina, and Shelly sat on his lap. The three girls clapped enthusiastically when they saw what was going on the couch and shouted encouragement, and Tina got a good look of Melvin’s face. What did ol’ Uncle Mel think about his sweet date getting wet from a girl licking up her legs? He was mortified, but Tina could tell that he also couldn’t help but be turned on at the same time. Tina giggled. Men!
“Now that you know the pizza’s fresh, you want to get a big bite of the pie, ya know? Start at the end and just nibble...” Violet’s mouth gently kissed its way up to the black thong Courtney wore under her skirt, the smell of the girl’s need strong and musky in Violet’s nostrils. She finished, “... your way to the top.”
Violet slid her fingers under the band of Courtney’s thong and pulled it slowly down her thighs. Courtney sighed in anxious anticipation, her eyes thin slits, only the whites showing, rolled up into the back of her head. The lips of her pussy glistened with needy moisture.
Melvin sucked air through his teeth at the exposure of Courtney’s pussy. How would he be able to look at her the same? The sweet innocence replaced by a mental vision of Violet between her legs, dipping her spiky, purple-topped head to get a taste of that delicious feminine honey? Melvin felt helpless but to watch.
Courtney gasped and fisted her hands in Violet’s spiky hair. Her eyes popped open, and she looked at Melvin with a lusty, hungry glare, her face flushed a dark red. This was not the sweet girl from the cafe; she’d been replaced by a horny redhead who just wanted to get fucked and get fucked HARD. He still wanted her, but how would he feel about her tomorrow? This was not a question that Melvin had concerned himself with any of the other women.
Melvin took in his surroundings. Everyone else had been effected by the show on the couch and wanted to get in on the act. Shelly and Tina were kissing and groping each other, swiping a plate of crackers and meat off a table and falling on top of it, their hands desperately working to get the other out of her clothes. Hammer (on bass) was getting a good look at Tasha as she pulled her shirt up over her juicy brown breasts, his hands squeezing and groping at them, and Brenda was on her knees, going down on Crow (on drums) while Red (lead guitar) had slipped out of the crimson drapes she’d been wearing and was licking the side of Richie Golding’s face while he tickled her now exposed clit with his hand.
“Oh, yeah,” Joey breathed next to him, and Melvin turned to see Bridget giving her date a reach around, his cock thick and swollen in her stroking, expert hand.
“It’s a fucking orgy,” Melvin said under his breath, wondering how the hell all this had happened.
***
An old saying states, “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”
Melvin felt he didn’t have much of a choice. It was either leave all of his friends and Violet’s band to their kinky devices and go home or take part in the sexual festivities at hand. Melvin chose to get a taste of the young flesh he’d been desiring since he’d first laid eyes on her. What else could he do?
Probably what made up his mind was Courtney beckoning him with a long finger as Violet smacked and licked at her pussy, Courtney’s hands fumbling frantically with Melvin’s zipper as he approached in a zombie-like trance and pulling out his straining cock. She opened her red lipsticked lips and slipped him inside with a delicious stroke of her hand. Melvin shivered. His hands slipped into Courtney’s soft hair.
“Yes,” he breathed. “Oh, darling, yes.”
Meanwhile, Shelly Stone was on the snack table, her legs spread wide, and Tina worked half of a long, thick log of sausage between her legs, giggling the entire time. Shelly’s pigtails tossed from side to side as she flung her head in passion as Tina rubbed Shelly’s clit with her free hand. Tina pulled out the sausage, much to Shelly’s dismay, and licked it clean with her tongue. If Melvin would have been watching, he would have recalled Olivia’s favorite phrase: “sex sausage” at its truest meaning.
“Now that is some tasty shit,” Tina said before plunging the sausage back into Shelly’s pussy, Shelly screaming in surprised pleasure.
Tasha Turner rode Hammer’s enormous cock, reverse cowgirl, her ass slapping against the bassist’s thighs, his hands roving over her hips and moving up to grip her bouncing breasts. Her moans were low and deep as she drove herself onto Hammer’s thickness again and again, the bassist gasping for breath. Sweat shimmered on their flexing, naked bodies.
Brenda and Red exchanged sloppy kisses as they were both bent over by Crow and Richie, respectively. Crow’s tattoos seemed to form intricate patterns as his muscles clenched and flexed, squeezing and then spreading as Crow relaxed and grew tight again as he pumped into Brenda’s dripping vagina. Richie, meanwhile, was exercising the patented Golding Twist on Red, much to her personal satisfaction.
Brenda was just happy that the night hadn’t turned out to be a total failure; at the very least, she was due for a good fucking and was getting one. It made her feel like a groupie as she twisted tongues with Red while being fucked by the band’s drummer as Richie fucked the band’s lead guitarist in front of Brenda’s eyes. Crow caressed her back with strong, surprisingly smooth hands. Brenda chanced a glance at her twin sister.
Joey had Bridget in the missionary position on the opposite couch, her legs wrapped around the round curves of Dangerfield’s tight ass, digging her heels into his flesh and pushing him harder into her. Bridget figured that she and the other girls were thinking the same thing: this wasn’t as good as it had been with Melvin, but she would take what she could get. Melvin had opened her eyes to the world of sexual liberation, and there was no going back, with or without a MacMuffin to guide her.
Melvin knew he had only himself to blame for this as Courtney managed him to the back of her throat, taking him fully and gliding her sexy mouth over his protruding, stiffened pole. He had turned these women into sexual animals, unleashing them from their cages of restraint with the magical love juice that flowed through his veins (thanks to Morgan, the conniving witch). And the love juice had come back only to backfire and corrupt the youthful sweetness of Courtney Brown, turning her into the depraved, ravenous slut that sucked his cock with uncanny prowess while being eaten out by Violet, another woman Melvin had unleashed with the love juice.
He figured his chances at an actual relationship with Courtney were ruined; he couldn’t ever look at her the same, and he didn’t know who she really was. Was it the love juice that made her act in this fashion or was it her true nature? He hadn’t wanted to change her, and yet, she had changed. At the very least, she had changed in his mind, where he had loved her for so long. Melvin sighed. In any case, he might as well enjoy himself while he could.
Violet stood up abruptly, Courtney’s juices dripping from her lips and chin, and kissed Melvin roughly on the lips, her tongue swishing out of her mouth and twirling with Melvin’s own. She pulled off his glasses, tossed them out of sight, wrapped her hands around the back of Melvin’s head, and after another few seconds of a long kiss, peeled her lips away from his.
“Time to get what’s coming to you, babe,” Violet whispered. “And I do mean cumming.”
She pushed Melvin to a sitting position on the couch, Courtney scurrying out of the way to make room for him, touching herself delicately as she watched Violet hike up her tight purple dress and maneuver herself over Melvin’s engorged boner. Melvin looked on helplessly as Violet began to grind his cock into her wet pussy with her hips, Melvin gnashing his teeth at the delicious feel of her warmth enveloping him. Violet was going to fuck him in front of Courtney, and Melvin found that he was caring less and less as he became overwhelmed by sheer, unbridled lust.
Melvin peeled back the top of Violet’s dress and flicked her nipple rings with his tongue as he started to ride him, her tits rubbing against his face. Her hands grabbed fists of hair and pulled him to her face roughly, pain scorching through Melvin’s scalp and a cry of surprise bursting through his lips.
“She’s no good for you,” Violet whispered harshly into Melvin’s ear, still bouncing on his cock, showering him with intense pleasure. “Don’t be fooled. She’s a slut. Look at how she likes to watch. You’re just as well off with me.” She licked the side of his face, the stud in her tongue cool against his skin.
Then she leaned back and bucked on him hard, driving his cock as deep inside of her as it would go, Violet screaming in ecstasy and yanking at clumps of Melvin’s hair. Melvin clenched his eyes shut, lost in an insane mixture of pain and pleasure, and just when it felt like it would go on forever, Violet gasped for breath, uncontrollably bucked twice, and collapsed off him, sweat pouring down her face. Her body trembled like a blade of grass caught in a cold wind. Melvin opened his eyes.
But Melvin didn’t get much of a breather as Tina Swift replaced Violet on his cock almost as soon as Violet was gone. Melvin didn’t know where his ex wife’s niece had come from or how she’d decided so quickly to replace Violet, but did it really matter? Shelly, now that Tina was out of her clutches, turned her attentions to Violet’s prone body while Tina jumped on top of Melvin and began humping away.
“Tina, I...” Melvin stammered, feeling her tight body rubbing against his. The feeling of Tina’s pussy was different and pleasurable, tighter and wetter than Violet’s but also cooler inside. It was something he wouldn’t have ever thought about had the women not exchanged themselves on top of him so rapidly.
Tina’s blonde curls bounced around her head, and her young face lit up with a wide, toothy smile. She leaned in much like Violet had and whispered in Melvin’s ear while she rode him, her southern accent casting a seductive spell.
“Uncle Mel, them other girls got nothin’ on me. We’re practically family,” she said, and then her tongue lashed out, flicking the Melvin’s ear lobe. He shivered, running his hands along her spine. His hair began to feel sticky and wet with sweat, clinging to his forehead in matted clumps.
His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he closed his eyelids, lost in a whirlwind of moans and panting and sensation. When he opened his eyes again, Tasha Turner had somehow replaced Tina. When had that happened? Melvin felt drugged by the lust that the women held over him. The world had become a dream, a waking exercise into the surreal, Melvin’s lovers coming and going like ghosts.
Tasha’s brown skin glimmered with beads of sweat, and Melvin lapped at them with his tongue. His hands roamed up and squeezed Tasha’s heaving breasts, her lips moving in and closing over his own, her sculpted face radiating her pleasure.
Then she moved her mouth to his ear and said, “You know what you really want is a lifetime supply of brown sugar. Don’t try to deny it.”
Melvin opened his eyes and his mouth to reply and saw that Tasha was already gone, and Bridget Briswell was riding him now, her sky blue eyes locked on his, her desperate hunger for him apparent in her look.
“Oh, Bridget,” he moaned.
“I’m Brenda, not Bridget. Why settle for one of these girls when you can have two Briswells? Double the pleasure, double the fun. Double the orgasms when you fuck a Briswell in the bum!” she replied. Her short blonde hair fell over her face as she flung her head forward and back, gnashing her teeth and squealing as she tensed before cumming on him.
Melvin shut his eyes and said, “Oh, yes, Brenda.”
“I’m Bridget, not Brenda,” the reply came, and Melvin opened his eyes to see Bridget pushing away her twin while she plunged herself on Melvin’s cock. “My turn to get off on you. Now, did she already give you the rhyme about double the fun and the bum stuff? I mean, duh! Choose us!”
She held Melvin tighter than the others while she made love to him, her breaths shivery gasps of joy as she slowly slid up and down on his cock, her pussy tight and moist over his rock hard manhood. Melvin appreciated the change of pace and thought he might even be close to cumming when Bridget came with a muffled gasp, her head buried in his shoulder. Melvin blinked, and Bridget was suddenly replaced by Shelly Stone.
“Sorry, just had to give you a try. Watching isn’t all I’m good at,” Shelly explained as she started to fuck him, much faster than Bridget. The new pace completely threw off Melvin’s impending orgasm, and he had to begin from scratch. Shelly’s brown pigtails bounced up and down, and she buried Melvin’s face in her small but perky breasts. Melvin latched onto Shelly’s pigtails as if they were handlebars on a bike and steered her at a suitable speed by pulling them up and down.
It didn’t seem Shelly had been on for very long when Red took her place. Red was skinner, as thin as a rain, and her pussy was the tightest of the bunch, almost painful for Melvin to enter. Once he was in, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to last very long, her pussy milking him and his face covered in a bundle of Red’s dyed hair.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Red simply repeated in sharp, jagged breaths.
The next moment, Red was gone, and then came Courtney.
Perfect Courtney, dimples forming at the corners of her smile, her face flushed, her freckles peppering her nose and cheeks, her naturally red hair shimmering in the light.
This wasn’t how Melvin had imagined their first time would be, in front of a group of people, in the midst of an orgy backstage at a dance club. He wanted to fuck her, but it seemed somehow sacrilegious to take her in such a way. Despite his reservations, he couldn’t help but have her, no matter the circumstance.
Courtney, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind. She began to buck on top of Melvin with reckless abandon, her tits flying, smacking Melvin in the face, and she allowed a long line of spit to spill from her mouth into Melvin’s. Unsure of what to do, Melvin kept his mouth open and received it, Courtney growling and grunting on top of him.
He had imagined their first time slow and sweet, but Courtney was fucking him like an enraged animal in heat, wild and dangerous. She clawed at his neck and his hair with sharp nails, leaving marks that would probably hurt like hell the next day. She sunk her teeth into Melvin’s shoulder and bit him, Melvin sucking in a painful gasp of air, wondering how he could have mistaken Courtney for the innocent angel he had once believed her to be.
No, this can’t be right, he thought. It must be the love juice; that’s why she was acting in such a weird way. Right? The witch’s ultimate joke: turning the one girl he actually wanted into a ravenous, sex starved fiend. Or worse, maybe he had just pegged Courtney wrong. Maybe she had been like this all along, and he just didn’t see it. The love juice was a failure. More so, MELVIN was a failure.
“No,” Melvin groaned, and he pushed Courtney off him. It couldn’t happen this way; this wasn’t what he wanted. This wasn’t how the magic love juice was supposed to work. He clutched his head, a thrumming ache forming between his temples. He pulled up his pants, holding them up, and pushed away from the concerned hands that grabbed at his shoulders and arms.
“Melvin, what’s wrong?” Bridget’s voice said.
“Uncle Mel, you ok?” Tina’s voice.
“Where are you going?” Violet.
There were others, but Melvin paid no mind. He turned back and glanced at the room behind him.
Courtney on the couch. On top of Joey’s Dangerfield, his cock deep inside of her pussy, while Hammer penetrated her ass with his massive tool. Her ass cheeks rippled as he thrust into her. She had Richie in her mouth, sucking him desperately, and Crow in her free hand, jerking him off with steadfast determination. This was the girl that Melvin had wanted so long, taking on four men and loving it.
Melvin’s heart broke. He turned to the door and pushed his way through, confusion and questions plaguing him from all sides. Seeing Courtney, he made up his mind. He knew what he was going to do. He knew now what he really wanted.
As he walked out of The Deep End, the brisk night air ruffling his hair
and cool on his face, he made his choice.