Melvin's Magic Love Juice Ch. 06

"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.