Chronicle - Mel and Chris Ch. 03

"Comfy?" Mel asked, Chris saw her demon's smile in the rear-view mirror. She started the car, backed quickly and pulled onto the road. He felt Maria's right hand on the inner side of his left thigh, she nudged him to put his arm over her shoulder.

"Sharing?" Chris whispered directly into Maria's ear, she squeezed his thigh, he moved his ear down to where her mouth was next to it.

"I need someone my own age," she kissed his cheek quickly. "but until then I need some other, um, another thing. May as well get it."

She kissed his cheek again, put her hand on his chin, turned his head and pushed her mouth onto his. Unlike that day in the lab he was ready, his tongue parried her initial thrust and forced its way past into the expert photographer's mouth.

"Hey," a sharp voice from the front seat, "I've got the heat way up, got those fucking coats off!"

They broke the kiss, laughed, but obeyed, both shrugged off their coats, Maria followed that and removed her grey suit jacket. Chris put it all onto the front passenger seat.

"Too warm, you two? Still too many clothes maybe..."

Chris felt two hands work his belt and jeans snap and Maria took advantage of his momentary confusion to gain a foothold in his mouth with her tongue. He admired the fact that neither her tongue nor her hands lost any coordination as he found his tongue pressed back and his very ecstatic cock spring free, two cool hands immediately wrapped around it.

"Hmm, need the defroster," Mel said, laughed, adjusted the levers.

His tongue's defense compromised by the pressure on his cock, he found the top button of Maria's blouse, quickly opened it, the rest followed quickly to her waistband, he rubbed across a breast just smaller than Mel's, encased in thin bra fabric, he happily discovered it was a front closure and had it undone an instant later, his hand cupped her left tit, thumb and forefinger found the nipple to coax it to attention.

Her hands kept up their twisting strokes but her tongue faltered, allowed him to push it back into her mouth and besiege her tonsils. He adjusted, was able to get his left hand onto her left breast to keep up the nipple attack, his right hand worked down to her thighs but her skirt and her thighs pressed tightly together presented a solid defense against retaliatory below the waist attacks.

"Hmm, did I leave that blanket on the seat back there or not? Folded up? Where did I leave it...," Mel's voice started firm but trailed off as it deepened with each word.

Chris chuckled, his tongue faltered but before Maria could press her advantage he backed off, pulled his arm from around her shoulder, grabbed her at each armpit and lifted her and quickly turned her until she faced him, he put her on his lap, her legs went apart to fall each side of his.

"Hey," she yelped, a laugh from the front seat. Chris's mouth found Maria's, gained deep entry before she mounted a desultory defense, his hand found the zipper at the center of the back of her skirt, pulled it down. In the sudden gap he felt flesh, discovered that she'd not only removed her hose but whatever panties she'd had on. He pushed the skirt down a few inches, one hand followed the waistband until it was in position to slide into her crotch, she jumped as he put pressure on her clit. She bit down on his tongue slightly, he backed it out, she freed her mouth.

"There's a blanket here, maybe you could lay down on it," she said, her voice hoarse, "that way."

She lifted slightly, his cock bounced as he lifted his ass and dragged the blanket under him along the seat. Maria pulled his jeans down, she lifted and her skirt fell, she shrugged it past first one booted foot then the other, showed no inclination to remove them. Chris toed off each of his Converses in turn to allow his jeans to be removed. Chris started to remove Maria's blouse but she stopped him, with guidance he slipped her bra straps outside of her short-sleeved blouse and tossed it onto the front seat.

"Told you to get rid of that in the house," the voice from the front seat said, "save some time."

"You drive the car, little girl, I'll drive your boyfriend," the response, accent heavy, hoarse, female laughs from both seats.

"On your back," Maria ordered Chris, not Mel's husky but her accent made up for that, thought Chris. He obeyed, she crawled on top of him, he kissed the firm stomach as it went past, he tongued her clit and pussy as he felt a pair of lips push onto his cock as it was sucked into a warm, oral embrace.

Chris saw the occasional splash of headlights or streetlights when he opened his eyes as he sucked Maria's engorged clit and sucked up her flowing juices, his own climax built as she worked two thirds of his cock into her mouth on each deep slow suck. He rubbed his hands under her shirt on her smooth back and kneaded her round ass.

"We've got the whole house to ourselves, Maria, everyone's gone," Mel's voice, deep, there was the rasp, "we just have a dinner to go to Saturday. So go slow, we'll have plenty of time and no need to get dressed for days..."

Maria pressed her crotch hard onto Chris's face as she lifted her head.

"I'm going to drain this sweet boy first, nina, then I'm going to taste that sweet, hot dark-haired demon cunt and once I've left a black-haired little girl in a heap, I'll have this one to myself the whole time!"

"If you think you can, old woman, bring it on, you think you can take me and the vibrator. Last one..."

"She was a weak ass gringa, you'll find me made of tougher stuff..."

She suddenly sucked almost the entire of Chris's cock into her mouth as Mel's deep, rasping laughter filled the car, Chris could do nothing more than lick and suck as Maria's crotch gave him no quarter. He wondered if he'd survive the long weekend.

If not, he'd have no regrets.

Recollections

"What's this place like," Mel asked as Chris drove up Mill Creek Canyon, "you've never mentioned it. So that means it's nice since you only take me to crapholes."

"I...," Chris started, then paused, "never mind. I've never been here, ever. Out of my price range."

He turned quickly and smirked then looked forward again on the winding road.

"But it's supposed to be quite good. You're sure about them treating?"

"All I have," Mel shrugged, "is this Herb guy is paying for everyone, and 'two more won't matter' Anita told me. Said they get together every year the Saturday after Thanksgiving since they all graduated, lucky for us this year here."

"Cool. Hopefully that'll hold. Otherwise we're not eating again for a week."

"I will. I have access to fine, fine dorm food," Mel said with exaggerated enthusiasm, "I'll sneak out some stale rolls and toss them out my dorm window to you."

"We'll find out," Chris pulled into the parking lot about halfway up the canyon, a dusting of snow from a quickly-dissipated storm around the area but the roads still clear, "we're here. I notice no tail or horns."

"We demons can mask our nature," her answer, "when it suits us."

"Like when getting off of buses?" Chris's question, a broad smile in reply.

"We're here for the Worley party," Chris told the maître'd as they met her just past a coat check, having handed over their parkas. Chris had his single sport coat on that he'd worn at Mallomar and Mel had opted for figure-hugging black slacks and an almost too-small red blouse that as usual had too many buttons undone. Rounded flesh and a black bra intermittently visible.

They followed as they were led to a table along a far wall and saw two men and a woman already seated, the trio's eyes drawn to the approaching couple. A thin, tall man with round, metal rim glasses stood up, the other two remained seated.

"Chris, Mel," the man said, in a deep but soft voice, they nodded, "I'm Herb Worley. Good to meet you."

"Chris Bajevic," Herb shook his hand, then Mel's, "this is Mel Caldicott. You're even taller than our friend Bobby, Herb."

He smiled at that. The maître'd pulled out Mel's chair, she sat, Chris helped himself as Herb sat down again. An offer for drinks and the young couple settled for water.

"Phil Orgone," the other man offered his hand, Chris thought like Herb he was somewhere in his late twenties but closer to his own height, the woman apparently a couple of inches shorter, "my wife Anita, I think she and Mel have met, kind of."

"Yup," said Anita, offered her hand to complete the ceremony, "at least on the phone."

"I hope you're happy to talk to us," Mel said, "we don't mean to impose."

"He was a good friend," said Herb with a slight shake in his voice, "to me at least. No one seemed to care... But us."

"We don't know what we can do," Chris said, "but we're hoping to work it out."

"That's good, but," Anita donned a conspiratorial smile and shook her head, paused, looked directly at Mel, "but you're not with the campus paper."

Both Herb and Phil looked at her, the former managed to get out "You said..." before Anita put her hand up. Mel raised an eyebrow and tilted her head slightly, her mouth slightly open and silent.

"That was her story, it was a good one and made perfect sense," she continued, her softly curled brown hair that fell around her thin, friendly face, shook a bit with her head, "but it doesn't matter. Does it Herb?"

The tall man looked at her, his revisited grief seemed clear to Chris, overlaid with a sense of worry.

"It doesn't matter because they're even better," Anita looked right at Herb, "these two already told the world about Peter and Carole. They've been trying to get the world to listen."

Four confused faces looked at her, the two youngest faces mixed that with guarded smiles.

"My brother is the world's biggest fan of Shore to Shore AM and Bart Shell, he told me about that night back in the summer when you two were talking about Peter and his succubus, them disappearing. That it's the same aliens with the crashed satellite. I'd told him the story of them disappearing, back that summer after. He recognised it and told me. And then he heard the audio from that briefing you did the day the star exploded."

She paused and took a sip of water, looked from Mel to Chris and back.

"Now, how did Bart Shell get hold of the audio from that briefing, huh? With the supernova it never made it onto the news. That Black Cloud stuff was pretty wild."

"Maybe someone dropped off a copy while driving past Pahrump, who knows," Mel said through her grin, nodded at Chris, "but this one has horrible timing. He could've blown up the star a week later!"

The waiter delivered a bottle of wine already ordered and poured three glasses, Chris as usual refused in solidarity. A thigh pressed his, a soft, quick smile. To the waiter a round of excuses and promises ensued to actually look at the menus.

"The steaks are excellent," offered Herb in a distracted tone.

The waiter's second trip resulted in a successful round of orders. Anita raised her glass of wine.

"Here's to Peter and Carole the succubus," she toasted.

"You two... do you know...," Herb stammered, "what happened to them? Aliens?"

"Not yet," Chris said, "we have a theory. Like Anita said, we've used Bart Shell's radio show to tell it. But, well, we have no PROOF yet of aliens taking him or that Carole was helping them. We just were the ones to work out that whatever crashed was one out of three 'anomalies' that are, were, in orbit. Two still are, but no one cares now..."

"You don't think Carole was an alien?" Anita's question.

"No, we think they're taller," Mel looked at her, shook her head slightly, "but she was helping them kidnap people. People like Peter without families or too many people to care, who know about our technology."

"Makes sense, if you accept the premise," Anita sipped her wine, she shrugged, "and why not. But it's good SHE wasn't alien. Ship lands, couple thousand hot, horny, babes like her come out, the men would be catatonic."

"My theory exactly! Took us a while to get your names," Mel beamed, "we read the news articles but they didn't use any of your names. Just that Jayne Fraser who was supposedly with them the day before. Did you guys meet her?"

"No," Phil's first contribution, "she was with them when they came back from Crompton's, I guess, we'd seen her car, well, a strange car. She didn't come in, just Peter and Carole."

"Crompton's? Up Emigration, next canyon over?" Chris's question.

"Yeah," Anita shrugged, "one of Peter's favorite places."

Chris and Mel looked at each other, shared a smile.

"So what was the story with those two," Mel's turn, "the articles didn't say much about their history. She apparently had no family and he avoided his."

Herb took a slow and deep sip of his wine.

"He did. Told us they'd never call but if they did don't tell 'em he was in, but let him know so he could deal with them."

"Yeah, it was on the news this week," Mel said, as Chris nodded, "apparently a brother of his attacked a girl up at the Uni last weekend, had a stroke after he'd beaten her up pretty bad."

"Saw that," Anita said with some heat, "he was nothing like that. No wonder he stayed away from them!"

"Ok, the reporter on that story is the same Jayne that was with them that day," Chris added to some raised eyebrows and nods, "but she's changed her name to Jacobs."

"Well. We don't know when or how she got in the picture, Peter and Carole met in the fall. She came over couple of times, but she never stayed over back then," he said, "I don't know. Peter didn't seem too happy then. But I'm not quite sure why."

Anita sniffed.

"She wouldn't put out," she said, "it was obvious."

Phil and Herb's expressions denied it was so clear. But then Phil's eyebrows went up and he shrugged, nodded.

"He'd started seeing a little redhead, over the winter. Same issue, he was having a bad run. But then, suddenly," Anita picked up, "Carole was back in the picture. And whatever had held her back wasn't a problem any more. She pretty well moved in until they disappeared, I think, about a month or so after they got back together. But neither of them ever mentioned Jayne, we just assumed that car had been hers after we saw her mentioned in the paper. Cops never asked us about her either."

"You CS guys and your redheads," Mel elbowed Chris softly, he shrugged, then turned to the former housemates, "this one was with a redhead before I came along. But she dumped him when he turned her into a lesbian. Wonder what happened to Peter's? He turn her into a lesbian? Redheads are dangerous."

The fleeting shock and light laughs at the table Chris met with a shrug and a smile.

"So she was pretty?" Mel asked, "One of Peter's classmates told me he almost upchucks looking at me in comparison!"

"He doesn't say that," Chris interjected, "he can barely speak around you."

Anita laughed, Phil and Herb were clearly unsure what to say.

"Oh yeah," Anita said as she elbowed her husband, "you should've seen this one trying to not let me catch him drooling. Herb just usually ran into his room and hid when she'd walk around next to naked!"

"I did... not," Phil started, "drool. Panted, maybe..."

Herb just smiled shyly and nodded in confirmation.

The waiter brought slices of crusty sourdough and their order of house-special onion rings.

"Dig in," said Anita, clearly the chosen spokesperson for the crew, "Herb, why don't you tell them about that last day?"

Everyone alternated to grab a couple of rings as Herb let out a long sigh. He took a bite and chewed slowly, worked out his statement.

"I had a bunch of golf buddies coming over the Saturday morning," he began, paused for another bite, staring at the wall between Phil and Anita, "we had a tournament. I'd promised them homemade pancakes, sausages, all that. But I'd neglected to inform the guy who'd be cooking it all!"

"Peter?" Chris asked as Herb took another bite.

"Yeah, he was good at that stuff. Did BBQ pretty good, too," at that Mel nudged Chris and gave him a fleeting smile, "I'd bought everything. I'd watched him do it for us on occasional weekend mornings so knew what to buy. Bought way too much, but whatever. Anyway, I sprang it on him. He just stared at me, but, oh well. He went downstairs to get dressed, came back and ripped into it. Made the pancakes from scratch."

"Jeez," said Mel, "this one managed to put a couple pieces of bread into the toaster for me once, poured some milk on my cereal..."

"I'm the boss of BBQ," Chris retorted, "and that's more than you manage to cook."

"I have other talents you appreciate," her contralto dropped a few tones. He smiled as Anita chuckled, "sorry, Herb, go ahead."

"I went out to the garage to get my clubs ready, when I came back in Carole was helping. Then she served everybody."

"You left out some points there, Herb," Anita said, "if I recall, your golf guys were pretty speechless around Carole."

"Well, she, um, wore...," his stammering didn't seem to be stopping.

"She had on shorts that left half her ass hanging out," Anita took over, "and an apron that barely covered her nipples and no way I could wear the heels she had on. That was it. There were no complaints from the customers."

"Hmm," Chris mused, looked at Mel, "sounds like not only did she wear shorter skirts than you her shorts were, um, shorter."

"Not to mention her...," Anita held her hands in front of her chest, her own breasts moderate on her average frame, a gap to her hands.

"No wonder Dave's unimpressed with current sights," Chris laughed.

Mel's tongue gave her opinion on that to a round of laughs.

"I told them I'd take them to any dinner they wanted for doing that," Herb finished, "I still owe them that."

"We were going up to Snowbird," Phil picked up, "invited them along. But they said they were tired. No shit! Said they were going to take a walk through Bonneville Glen, like they always did on nice days, then he was going to play Ultimate. He had some spot he said no one else could find, had a table and a view over rockfalls for the stream. Hidden, he said."

"Ah," Chris said as Mel's thigh pressed again, "we're pretty sure we've been to that spot."

"But that's how we got your names, from an Ultimate guy," Mel said, looking now as Anita nodded, "then looked you up. Fortunately you're still in town, hadn't found Herb yet."

"I went back to LA, just finished my MBA," the tall man seemed better composed.

"Friend of ours has a girlfriend from there! And we were down that way," Chris said, "just after Labor Day. Mount Mallomar. And Castleland."

"That's not LA," Herb laughed, Chris smiled a bit at the big man's improved mood.

"Oh yeah, we're too wimpy to handle the 'real' LA!"

"I'll give you my number, come down sometime. I'll show you around!"

"Deal," said Mel, "but no Christmas in California."

"Don't ask," Chris said to puzzled looks, "an ongoing discussion. Anyway, after you reported them missing, you guys talked to the police? Did anyone from either family ever call?"

"Nope," said Anita, "weird thing. Police even said 'they probably just decided to go away.'"

"But that was wrong," Phil said, suddenly animated, "I told them he'd NEVER have left that car behind! I don't know if he loved Carole but he loved that car."

"1971 Boss 351 Mustang, right?" Chris asked.

"Yeah, how do you know that? Never made it into the articles."

"Classmate of Peter's, he's a grad student now. We saw it... we saw one like it. The classmate, Dave, said it's a different color but same kind of car. I had a bunch of cousins who were big into cars so I'm familiar with Detroit muscle cars. Those are pretty rare. What happened to it?"