Melvin's Magic Love Juice Ch. 04

Author's Note: I'd just like to thank everyone who has sent me feedback, positive and negative. Your words have been both encouraging and helpful. Also a quick warning: this chapter will probably be the last one for a little while, and it's a mostly set up for following installments. I think it'll be worth it. The next one is gonna be a lot of fun...

***

In bed, his muscles a patchwork of one connecting soreness to another, Melvin couldn't get to sleep. His eyes stared up at the ceiling without seeing it, looking through it to the place where only one who is lonely and troubled peers during his deepest thoughts: into his own soul. If someone had questioned the integrity of Melvin's soul two days ago, Melvin would have no problem declaring it pure and untarnished. Tired and mistreated, maybe. But still pure. Melvin had never done a wrong thing in his life...

A muscle in his arm twitched fitfully.

But now? Melvin knew that enjoying himself with women was no crime, but he still felt sharp twinges of guilt course through him whenever he thought about the three women he had slept with today: his boss, a woman he had met on the elevator, and an unnamed pizza delivery girl. Last night a woman who had claimed to be a witch had given him a blow job and made him drink a potion that apparently was some kind of love juice. This was more physical satisfaction than he had gotten in a lifetime of unsatisfying female rejection and grief.

Melvin tried to flex his twitching muscle but couldn't.

The root of his guilt was that he didn't really care for any of the women; his boss was a monster bitch, and the other two women he barely knew. The witch still seemed like a figment of his imagination though she was a figment that kept calling his cell phone. He'd used them for his own personal fulfillment, like sex toys. Melvin MacMuffin did not feel comfortable using people, that's not who he was; he was just a mild-mannered accountant. He was Clark Kent without the Superman.

The twitch faded and left his muscle feeling comfortably numb.

A voice in his head, one that sounded like the witch's voice said, "Melvin, you weren't using them. They were using YOU. They wanted YOU. You initiated nothing. The women only did to you what they wanted to do."

Still, Melvin had a date with Courtney tomorrow night, a girl that he might actually want to have a lasting relationship with, and here he was banging every female with two legs in sight. What would Courtney think about his newfound habit of using woman as sexual objects? He didn't want her to just like him because of the love juice, because she wanted to jump his bones; he wanted Courtney to like HIM, the real Melvin MacMuffin.

The witch's voice replied, "The real Melvin MacMuffin is no longer that sorry sack of nerdlinger that you keep referring to. The real Melvin MacMuffin is now an official stud Mac-muffin, and you might as well accept it."

Melvin closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, a habit he'd picked up sometime during his younger years and which returned whenever he felt helplessly frustrated. If only there was someone he could talk to about all of this. He considered Richie Golding, but Richie'd probably just laugh at him and tell him that he had lost his mind. Richie would never believe that Melvin had scored with a woman, let alone three different woman in one day.

The thought of Bridget Briswell, the woman from the elevator, passed through his mind. What about the whole attorney-client privilege and all that? He could go up to her firm tomorrow, hire her as his lawyer, and have a nice long talk with her as they sorted through the paperwork. She'd been one of the women he'd slept with, so she would believe him for one thing, at least about the sex part. She was intelligent, being a partner in her own law firm, after all; so maybe she could give him some good advice and clear up a few things along the way.

Yeah, he'd talk to the lovely Bridget Briswell. Anyway, it'd be a smart thing to get his own lawyer because who knew how Olivia Crabapple, his boss, would handle their whole fuck session together? She might have some kind of sexual harassment suit up her sleeve or something; you couldn't put anything past her.

His muscles still aching, Melvin drifted off into a fitful sleep.

***

The following day, Melvin stepped through the elevator doors and onto the floor where the directory had informed him the law offices of Briswell and Briswell resided. Everything looked shiny, nice, and new. The twin attorneys were successful enough to have their own commercials on television and some of the biggest companies in the city as their clients, and it showed. Melvin was fairly well off, but he wondered if he could afford them. He hoped that having sex with Bridget might get him some sort of discount if their prices were too extraordinarily high.

He walked up to a large reception desk where a cheery young woman with twinkling eyes and a beauty pageant smile greeted him.

"Hi, I'd like to speak to Ms. Briswell, please," Melvin said.

"Which one?" the receptionist chirped in her pixie voice.

"Oh, right. Bridget, please. Tell her it's Melvin MacMuffin."

"Certainly. Just have a seat right over there, and I'll see what I can do for you," the receptionist said and pointed him towards a semicircle of chairs in a small waiting lounge. She let her eyes drift a few extra seconds on Melvin's tush as he walked away before moving on to the next person at the desk.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her mind still on Melvin and what it would be like to feel his hands roaming on her bare skin.

Just as Melvin sat down and opened the new issue of Forbes magazine, a warm voice called, "Mel!" It was Bridget; she approached him with long, hip swaying strides, her hand extended towards him, her face beaming. She looked very happy to see him. Melvin took her hand with a hardy handshake, and Bridget questioned him with raised eyebrows, the same look that Melvin had given her the day before when she showed up outside the door to his apartment.

"I'm looking to hire a lawyer," Melvin explained. Her eyes sparkled in reply.

"Well, you came to the right place," she said, then leaned in close to his ear and dropped her voice. "And if you're looking for a little something extra, you came to the right place for that, too."

Pulling back, she swirled on her heels, waved him forward, and said, "Follow me."

Bridget led him into a spacious office, and Melvin gaped in awe. Towering mahogany shelves of books lined two walls; the back walls were floor to ceiling windows giving a vast and breathtaking view of the city. Bridget's desk was a dark wooden beast which rose from the floor like a dinosaur in the middle of her office; a mini-bar was one corner of the room, a long leather couch sitting close by it. Everything screamed success. This was the office of his dreams.

Bridget closed the door behind them, locked it, and then swung around and thrust her arms over Melvin's shoulders, pulling him close for a lusty kiss. Unable to help himself, Melvin kissed her back. He plunged his hands into her shoulder length blonde hair, caught in the heat of the moment. Bridget finally broke the kiss and wiped the saliva from her lips with a cute giggle. As she looked at him, Melvin found himself more than a little in awe of her sky blue eyes.

"It's good to see you," Melvin said.

Bridget laughed. "That's the understatement of the year. Last night was amazing. Sorry I had to run off like I did. Wanna call for pizza tonight?"

Melvin's face reddened, and he said, "I can't."

"Got a hot date or something?"

"Well..."

"Figures," Bridget said with a bright smile. "Don't worry, I won't hold it against you. I've got one too, actually. Go figure! One night with Melvin MacMuffin, and suddenly I'm the poster girl for self confidence. I hadn't had a date for two years, and the next thing you know, the security hunk downstairs wants my number this morning. Guess you must have put some strut in my step."

Melvin tugged at his collar, feeling uncomfortable. Bridget Briswell certainly didn't appear the worse for wear after having sex with him. In fact, she seemed liberated from the repressed academic socialite that he'd taken her for when he'd first met her in the elevator. Could the same be said for Olivia though? Or the pizza girl? Well, the last thing the pizza girl probably needed was liberation but still.

"Bridget, I do really want to hire you as my lawyer..."

"Yes?" she said, urging him to continue. She worked her way around her desk and sat herself down behind it. She waved Melvin to a chair which he took, sinking deep into its softness.

"There's something that's been on my mind, and I'm kind of looking for someone who'll listen to me all the way through before they decide if I'm completely crazy or not," Melvin said, wiping the sweat that peppered his brow. He wanted to tell Bridget his story, but he wasn't sure if he was prepared to do so.

"Of course, Melvin. You can trust me." She smiled. "I'm your lawyer."

***

Melvin spilled everything: the witch, the love juice, Olivia, the guilt he'd felt after sleeping with Bridget and the pizza girl, his intense mental and physical exhaustion, all of it. When he finished, he felt as though a heavy weight had lifted off his shoulders, and relief flooded over him in a cool refreshing wave. Bridget had listened like a true lawyer, nodding, asking for clarification at one point or another, letting the information sink in. She never questioned his honesty or his sanity; for this, Melvin couldn't have been more grateful. Melvin finished up with a sigh and collapsed back into the chair. Bridget considered him a moment, her chin resting on her hands.

"Well, that's quite the story," she finally said. Melvin nodded in agreement. He knew it was a fanciful tale, and as he'd said it out loud, it had only seemed more unbelievable. Still, Bridget was a part of the story, so if anyone was to believe him, it'd be her.

"How'd Olivia treat you this morning?" she asked.

"She met me in my office and apologized for coming down so hard on me lately. It was so... unlike her. It was almost as if she was a real person. Naturally, I didn't trust her one bit. I think she's got something up her sleeve," Melvin said.

He paused and added, "She even gave me a hug." He shuddered. "Disturbing!"

As he spoke, Bridget walked over to the mini-bar and poured herself a shot of whiskey which she downed with a quick thrust of her neck, throwing her hand up to her mouth. Her face clenched as the burning liquid sank through her throat and into the pit of her stomach. The shot glass clunked as she thumped it back onto the bar.

"Or maybe your love potion is more potent than you realize. Drink?" she offered, holding a glass in Melvin's direction. Melvin shook his head.

"No thanks," he said. Bridget made her way backs towards the desk, but instead of slipping back behind it, she hopped onto Melvin's chair and his lap. Melvin felt her firm bottom settling snugly on his crotch, and he felt the first tingles of sexual desire running through him. Hadn't he gotten enough yesterday? Apparently not. She leaned back so that her head next to his, her blonde hair tickling his face.

"Consider this, Melvin. Two days ago I was one of the most uptight, repressed workaholics this world has ever known. Yesterday, we met in the elevator, and you had such a profound effect on me that I locked myself in my office and masturbated for an hour, then followed you home for a threesome with you and a purple-haired pizza girl. I've never felt more free in my life. Today, I've got a date with a beefy hunk, and I'm considering fucking you in front of the windows of my office for the world to see. Now, you tell me that your cold-hearted boss is apologizing and kissing your butt after an office fling. Probably, the pizza girl has been inspired to quit her day job and become a full time punk rocker. Do you understand that you're not just making love to women but changing them with your sex? Changing them for the BETTER? Do you realize how amazing something like that is?"

"Really?" Melvin said. "Do you mean it?"

"Mean what? That I think it's awesome that you're finally getting laid, or that I want to fuck you in front of the window?" she said and kissed him on the cheek. She moved a hand to his thigh and squeezed. Melvin began to feel all tingly.

"What about Courtney?" he said. Bridget blinked.

"Oh... well, I think you shouldn't worry about that. It's not like you're dating her or anything yet. But don't tell her about all of this right away, ease her into it. Then if things work out, you'll figure everything out for yourself." Bridget's jacket slipped to the floor.

"And the witch?" Melvin asked. This bothered him more than almost everything else. What did the witch want to meet with him tonight for? Bridget pulled her shirt over her head, her breasts straining against a tight white bra.

"Obviously, she's going to work out some kind of payment. You don't just give things like love potions away. The whole world would be a madhouse," Bridget explained, her hands working to undo Melvin's tie and unbutton his shirt.

"Now, let's you and me talk about payment for all this time I've spent with you this morning," Bridget said and smothered Melvin's face with her breasts. She reached around her back and unhooked her bra, tossing it to the floor.

Bridget sighed as Melvin began to suck on her bare breasts. She wondered about Melvin's story. Two days ago she would have simply assumed that Melvin was delusional, but after her wild experience with him and the pizza girl, she found herself believing every word. Would she have given Melvin the time of day before he'd taken the witch's love juice? It was hard to say. It wasn't Melvin's physical attributes that made her want him, though he wasn't an ugly man; it was what she could see underneath, his inner self, that made him so attractive. Perhaps the potion merely allowed women to see the beauty, the warmth and kind heart beneath his skin?

Bridget got up and led Melvin by the wrist to the windows. She kissed him and allowed her hands to roam to his belt buckle and unfasten it. Melvin's lips were soft, sweet, and inexperienced much like her own. For some reason, this only made her want him more. Pleasing a man who could have any woman at any time was not as satisfying as pleasing a man who would appreciate what she was going to do for him. She knew that Melvin would appreciate it; it was still too early for him to have become jaded by the legions of women that would soon fall at his feet and beg for his affections. Bridget broke their kiss and slipped a finger between Melvin's lips for him to suck on.

"Do you want me to go with you to your meeting tonight? It might be helpful to have your lawyer with you if the witch gets all tricksy on your ass," Bridget said. She pulled her finger out of his mouth to allow him to speak and slipped his pants and boxers down his legs. She wrapped her hands around his hot throbbing cock. It flexed in her slender fingers. She was proud of how good she was with her hands, and she knew that Melvin had loved his hand job the night before. He could barely croak out his reply, lost in the passion of her graceful strokes and touches.

"Yeah, that might be a good idea," he said.

"Ok, then nothing to be frightened of," Bridget said before bowing to her knees and devouring his cock. Melvin let the pleasure overtake him, placing his hands against the windows for support. The glass felt cool under his palms, and he took in the view of the city around him. Skyscrapers cut through the sky, parting clouds and looming over the landscape like angry giants, monuments to man's modern hubris. Murky clouds gathered in the sky and darkened the day, a layer of gloomy gray sparkling with bolts of electricity. A storm was coming. A few fat droplets of rain pattered against the window in warning.

Bridget glided her mouth over his pole for a few minutes, her hands subtly working him, fingers tickling the underside of his balls, her tongue flicking out and dripping spit on Melvin's cock. Melvin closed his eyes for a moment and leaned his head onto the glass. Her mouth felt so damn good. He opened his eyes and looked down, the ground an eternity below him. Cars zoomed like Matchbox toys, and people were merely moving dots, scrambling from one area to another. This would be the closest sensation he'd ever get to flying and getting head at the same time; pretty cool, he thought. He blew air through his teeth.

After some time, they switched places, and Melvin worked two fingers into Bridget as she hiked up her skirt and spread her legs, allowing Melvin's access to her while she stood at the window. She felt his mouth on her clit, his tongue flicking her and then sucking, sending electric tingles over her body. His fingers slid in and out of her, filling her, and she fisted one hand into his hair and moaned loudly. She lowered herself farther, allowing him deeper into her. Her eyes fluttered. Thunder rumbled outside. Minutes passed like water through their fingers.

"Fuck me now," she breathed. Melvin stood up, and Bridget pulled him with her arms, maneuvering him behind her. Gently, Melvin entered her doggie style at the window. Bridget sucked air between her teeth and moaned quietly. Her breasts pressed against the glass of the window, her nipples hard. She arched her back and pushed herself into him, his hands sinking into the flesh of her hips. Melvin dipped into her, feeling her hot flesh encase his, and they became one.

Rain drops thudded against in the window, and a flash of lightening illuminated them for a moment, blinding Melvin with a blaze of white, and a tremor of thunder ripped from the heavens, shaking the world around them. He increased his speed, her ass slapping against him, her moisture dripping down their legs. Another flash of lightening shot through the sky, electric fingers splitting the clouds and striking a metal rod at the top of a nearby skyscraper. Sparks flew. Bridget moaned, her pussy tightening around Melvin's cock. Outside the storm broke, and torrents of rain splashed against the glass and pummeled into the city. Sweat dripped from the tip of Melvin's nose and splattered onto Bridget's pale white skin.

"My god, Melvin! Yes! Yesss!" Bridget hissed, bucking into him, and then they came together, lost in their own storm of passion. Bridget's world was a red haze for a moment, pleasure sweeping through her, her muscles clenching and then releasing, and she felt Melvin erupt within her, his hardness suddenly a fluid warmth inside.

But outside, the storm raged on.

***

Melvin leaned back into his leather office chair, the swooning weight of exhaustion making his arms feel like dead weight. It took a major effort for him to lift them enough to type on his keyboard. Not that Melvin felt like typing much of anything; for once, his mind was not on his work. While his conversation with Bridget had made him feel somewhat better about this situation and he was happy that he'd have some back-up during his meeting tonight with the witch, he still felt physically drained. Could it be a side effect of the love juice? Melvin believed so. This meant that he'd have to refrain from any more sexual contact until his date tonight with Courtney the cute waitress. He needed to have some energy stored up. As long as he could avoid Olivia Crabapple for the rest of the day, he had a chance.

Without knocking, Richie Golding popped into Melvin's office, a wide grin splashed on his face. He wore a crisp new suit and flipped his thumbs up at Melvin as he entered the room.

"Mel, it's a great day, buddy! I just got a hot date with Brenda Briswell, the hot lawyer from upstairs. Know her?"