My Fantasy Girl Ch. 03

On Wednesday I told Tom he was two for two -- the sea food restaurant was excellent. "Unfortunately", he said. "You've now been to every good restaurant I'm aware of in the area."

That evening when I picked up Melissa, she asked where we were going to eat. She was really enjoying the adventure of going out for a fancy meal every night. "We're going to eat at the Downtown Hotel", I told her.

"Oh, you don't want to waste any time getting me up to your room, do you?"

"That's not it", I said defensively. She was only kidding me but I reacted like she was serious. Then I saw her grin.

"Have you eaten there?" I asked.

"Yes, but only lunch."

"Well, in the evening they have a buffet. It's nothing special, just the usual roast beef, baked ham and fried chicken, along with lots of salad and dessert items. But they do have one special item. They have tiny peel-and-eat shrimp, and now that I know you like sea food, I'm sure you'll enjoy this meal. We can take our time and enjoy the shrimp while we drink a cocktail."

When you entered the Downtown Hotel through the front door you entered a large room which was the restaurant and the check in area as well. The buffet table was set up right next to the check in counter. There were four booths up front and a few tables in the open area. We got one of the booths.

After we ordered our drinks and I again explained my penchant for gin and tonic all year round we went to the buffet table where I filled a dinner plate with a huge mountain of tiny shrimp. Melissa picked up two small plates and put some cocktail sauce on them.

Back at the table I peeled one of the shrimp and put it on Melissa's plate "Thank you", she said as she ate the shrimp and I peeled another. I also placed this one on her plate. She ate it and said, "You know I can eat these things faster than you can peel them, don't you? You're never going to get any if you keep this up. I can peel my own."

She was right of course. I was treating her like a little porcelain doll that might break at any time, but she was an adult who was tough enough to make it through whatever it was that had happened to her marriage. From that point on we ate and drank and enjoyed the experience and each other. Although I was anxious to have sex with her again I was not in the state I had been in the night before. We ate so many shrimp we had to get a second round of drinks. I ordered a bottle of zinfandel once we got past the shrimp.

When we finished eating we were stuffed. We had even managed to put away dessert and coffee at the end of the meal. The food selections were not as fancy as at the other two restaurants we'd been to but we enjoyed the meal just as much.

After dinner, at my suggestion I might add, we went for a walk along the main street of town. The winter weather had progressed to the point that there was a permanent border of snow between the sidewalk and the street, which would be there until spring. The weather was clear and the local businesses had provided a wide path along the sidewalk free of snow, so we enjoyed the walk, looking in the various display windows as we went. The central business district was only three blocks long, anchored at one end by the hotel and at the other end by a movie theater. By the time we got back to the hotel we were ready for the warmth inside. We went up to my room and started a repeat of the previous night's activities.

ESTABLISHING A ROUTINE

I had to spend the entire next week in Canada on another project so I didn't get to see Melissa for nearly two whole weeks. However, the next several weeks would be my time for maximum concentration on the Pennsylvania project so I would get to see her for two or three dates each of those weeks.

Each day that I was in my office in Atlanta I called Melissa right at 12 noon and talked with her until it was time for her to join her friend for lunch. When I was somewhere else, usually Montreal or New York City, I would call her at home in the evening every other night. We never talked for a long time; mostly I just told her I missed her and couldn't wait until I got to see her again.

I did not stay at the Downtown Hotel anymore. I stayed at a motor lodge on the edge of town. These were quite common in the forties and fifties but they gave way to motels starting in the sixties. The characteristics of a motor lodge was that it was a long, narrow one story building, consisting of a string of rooms, with parking right at the door to each room. The larger ones usually had a larger room in the center, which was the office, and often the home of an on-site proprietor. This one had a separate in-wall heating/air conditioning unit (HVAC) in each room. On each trip I checked in as soon as I got into town and turned on the heater so the room would be comfortable when I came back after work.

The rooms were large with a queen-size bed, a table and some chairs next to the wall with the HVAC system and a full length mirror facing the foot of the bed. The lighting was good, without glare, so the first time we had sex there, and every time thereafter, I left the light on.

On that first occasion we were lying naked on top of the sheet as we were engaged in foreplay. I kissed down Melissa's body to below her naval while playing with her with my fingers. Her pubic hair was trimmed to a neat triangle pointing toward her vagina. This surprised me as Joan never cut her pussy hair; the only women I had seen that looked like Melissa were the ones in girly magazines like Playboy and Penthouse and I'd always assumed it was only those "wild" girls that went bald or trimmed. When I asked her about it, she explained it was necessary for when she wore a bikini during the summer. Well, of course! When Joan was young, bikinis were still not generally accepted. Her two piece bathing suits had full coverage bottoms, and she always wore full coverage panties under her clothes so she doesn't need to trim or shave there.

"Wait until you see me in my little white bikini. You'll love it", Melissa said. "You're a leg and butt man and they both look very good in my bikini."

I was tempted to continue down and start kissing her clit and her vagina but I didn't. Instead I moved up and kissed her on the mouth. We soon progressed to intercourse.

One other time I started to go down on her but didn't. When we came to my room after dinner on an especially cold evening, it was stifling hot. The thermostat, built into the HVAC system, was set to about 70 but the system was still running and the temperature was well over 80. I banged on the unit with the heel of my hand, hoping to free it if it was stuck, but the heater continued to run. I turned it off completely. We quickly took off our clothes and got on the bed.

We started to make out but in just a few minutes it was too cold. Obviously the building was not insulated very well. We got under the covers but it was still uncomfortable. I turned the unit back on, but since I had no tools I couldn't fix the thermostat. It was soon too hot again and we shed all the covers. I turned the unit off again and turned back toward the bed.

Melissa was lying there with her head on a pillow and her legs splayed out. I knelt on the floor at the foot of the bed and put one hand on each leg about half way up her calves. As I slowly moved my hands up her legs I gave her soft kisses just above my hands, alternating between her left and right legs. As I got to the tops of her thighs I wanted to kiss her vagina but I was concerned that it would upset her so I kissed just above her pubic hair instead. She said nothing, and I moved on up her body, kissing as I went. I don't know why I did what I did. She never moved a muscle as I was kissing her thighs so she probably would have welcomed a deep kiss of her pussy.

I do know that Melissa was like Joan in many ways when it came to sexual behavior. In these early weeks of our relationship she never touched my penis. Joan seldom touched me and on the few occasions she took me into her mouth she insisted I not ejaculate in her mouth or on her face. And Joan did not seem to like me going down on her. When I did she would grasp my head after a short time and pull me up. It was as if she was afraid of an intense orgasm. I believe those thoughts are what prevented me from going down on Melissa that night. And like so many subjects, we never discussed sexual desires after my one comment the first night.

I also managed to cause her to become upset a couple of times. One of these occurred early in our relationship. She was lying on the bed and I was kissing her upper body. "You know," I said. "My boobs are bigger than yours." My body type is endomorph, i.e.-I tend to have fatty tissue, so my statement was true. However, I had seriously underestimated how sensitive Melissa was about her flat chest. She got a pained look on her face and said something to the effect that, if I didn't like her body, I didn't have to touch it. I spent the next several minutes trying to placate her. Eventually she came around and we went back to making love.

My voyeuristic nature was the cause of the second time she became upset. She was lying on her side, lengthwise on the bed, fully dressed with her legs pulled up at a right angle to her body. I was lying next to her and we were kissing, the very start of foreplay. After a kiss, I turned my head and, quite by accident, I viewed her in the full-length mirror at the foot of the bed. I had a perfect view of the backs of her thighs and her ass, still covered by panties and pantyhose. It was fantastic! After a few seconds, realizing I still wasn't giving her another kiss, she turned her head.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Admiring you in the mirror."

"Well, get back here and pay some attention to ME!"

I kissed her and, while we kissed, I pivoted our heads so I could see the mirror without changing her body position.

This time she broke the kiss. "What's the matter with you? Are you sick?" She shifted her legs, taking away my view. "You'd rather look at my image than to feel the real thing." What could I say? I told her I enjoyed looking at her and feeling her, but, again, it took a while to calm her down.

All in all, however, things were going very well. We tried another restaurant or two but Tom was right, the Holiday Inn and the sea food restaurant at Geisinger were the two best around. Melissa and I also liked the buffet at the Downtown Hotel, mainly because we enjoyed dawdling over a large plate of tiny shrimp. We settled into a routine of eating at the sea food restaurant one night and at the hotel buffet the other night. During this time, I never invited her to return to the Holiday Inn. I believe that, subconsciously, I was afraid she would want to dance and it would get so late that I would lose out on sex for the night.

Melissa never asked to go back to the Holiday Inn. In fact, she accepted everything I said or did without question except once, and that's when I told her my second lie. By this time I had told her my true age. She was shocked. "Wow, you're nearly as old as my mother!" she exclaimed. "She's only seven years older than you." "Ah, but I don't feel about her the way I feel about you." By this time we had progressed to the point that we were saying "I love you" while having sex so Melissa accepted my true age and never mentioned it again.

My second lie occurred while we were in the car on the way to dinner. She shocked me when, out of the blue, she said, "You know, I'm not so sexually oriented that I like to do it every night." Oh, no, what a blow to my manhood! I knew I wasn't a particularly good lover but her comment really bothered me. "Well," I said. "If I were here all the time I wouldn't want sex every night, but since I'm only here a couple of nights each week I certainly want to make love to you every night I'm here." The truth was, even if I was with her every night, I would still want sex every night. She accepted my answer and we continued to make love every night I was there during this time period.

The only exception was that one of my trips was during her period. Joan and I never wanted to have sex during her period so when Melissa told me about it, I told her we could just not have sex on those nights and that was fine with her.

The first night of my trip we ate at the hotel, then walked to the theater and watched the movie (the town had just one theater with a single screen so there was no choice involved). It was a really bad disaster movie called "Towering Inferno". It had a huge cast but they couldn't save a poor script with hackneyed lines and cheesy special effects. There was hardly anyone else in the theater so we laughed and cut up. We also cuddled. All-in-all it was an enjoyable evening.

The next night we ate sea food, then went to my room and cuddled some more. Her flow had slowed down by then. She told me the next night would be fine so I stayed an extra day and did get to have sex with her once that trip.

On my first trip to Pennsylvania after my week in Canada, when I got to Melissa's house to take her out for the evening, she told me to come in. We had obviously crossed a line; I don't know if the impetus came from Melissa or her parents. They were very cool toward me and it was obvious they didn't approve of Melissa becoming involved with a married man. The mother especially, probably wanting to protect her only child, did little to hide her disdain for me. But, like people of every generation before the Boomers, they were too polite to be really nasty. For instance, her mother never asked how my wife was!

On the other hand, her seven year old daughter, Heather, was precious. She was beautiful, friendly though a little shy, very polite, and showed respect and love for her mother and her grandparents. She was very alert and spoke perfect English, just like her mother. Upon meeting her, my respect for Melissa grew as she had obviously done a very good parenting job. One of the thoughts I had was how easily Heather would fit in with my own children, the youngest of whom was nearly ten. Of course that would never be as Joan was also an excellent mother and would get custody of the children when we got divorced.

Almost everything was perfect during these early weeks in our courtship. I enjoyed the dinners and the conversations, even though we didn't really say anything most of the time. I certainly enjoyed holding Melissa, with or without clothes, and kissing her was still as exciting as it was the first time. When I asked, she told me she was exactly five feet tall, normally weighed 100 pounds though she was down to 98 at the moment, and her measurements were 32-21-33. It all seemed perfect to me.

When we were in bed, I liked to address her as "Melissa melove". It might not be good English but I loved the way it rolls off the tongue. (Note: pronounce both e's the same way.)

For the most part our pillow talk was innocuous though there was one significant exchange which occurred when I speculated about the possibility of a long term relationship, i.e.-marriage.

"I don't know if I could ever marry you," Melissa said, "because I could never trust you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're cheating on your wife right now, aren't you? How do I know you wouldn't cheat on me?"

"I went fifteen years without looking at another woman, and I wouldn't be here with you now if I wasn't convinced that Joan no longer loves me. As long as you show your love for me and insist I show you the same feelings we would have no problems."

As with so many of the things I said, Melissa seemed to accept it, but I wasn't sure at the time.

THE BEST WEEK OF MY LIFE

I believe that it is possible to love more than one person at the same time but you can only be IN LOVE with one person at a time. Obviously we all love multiple people like our parents, our children, our siblings, etc. Now I know this is a different type of love but it figures we can also have multiple romantic loves. Even now I still loved Joan but I was certainly no longer in love with her.

Valentine's Day was on a Friday. This would be the last of the string of weeks in which I went to Pennsylvania. It became the best week of my life because that's when I decided Melissa was in love with me and I with her. We had already been saying "I love you" to each other for a couple of weeks but our relationship went to a new level this week.

I had my secretary make my reservations to go up on Wednesday and return on Friday but I had no intention of coming back Friday evening. As soon as I got to Wilkes-Barre / Scranton airport I changed my return trip to Atlanta to Saturday afternoon from Williamsport. I had already told Melissa my plans and she was excited. She told me she wanted to go to a place in Wilkes-Barre which served excellent Italian food and also had dancing.

On Tuesday on my way home from the office I bought some candy, lots of candy. Although my family moved frequently when I was a kid we seemed to periodically recycle back to the Philadelphia area where Whitman's candy was displayed in the stores so prominently that I wasn't aware of any other brand of boxed candy when I moved to Atlanta in 1970 (Whitman's headquarters and main manufacturing plant were in Camden, New Jersey just across the Delaware River from Philly). In Atlanta, two brands were given equal shelf space, Whitman's and Russell Stover, an Atlanta company which I assumed was a regional supplier. On the next candy-giving occasion I bought Russell Stover; Joan and I both preferred it to Whitman's.

So on Tuesday I bought Joan a box of chocolate covered cherry cordials, her favorite. I also got four half-pound boxes of assorted chocolates for the receptionist and the three secretaries (not including Melissa), and I got a large heart-shaped two pound box for Melissa. It had a red satin cover and a Barbie-type doll. I selected a package that featured a doll with dark hair and a short yellow dress. It had a little heart shaped base on which the doll was mounted.

I left all the candy in the car overnight. On Wednesday morning I put Joan's candy on the kitchen table as I left to catch the early bird flight. Per my normal procedure I checked in at the motor court before going to the office, and I left Melissa's candy there.

I gave the receptionist one of the boxes of candy when I entered the office. "Happy Valentine's Day," I said. "This is an Atlanta brand you can't get up here in Pennsylvania. I hope you enjoy it."

"Thank you Bob." She said.

I went to my desk, exchanged smiles with Melissa, then took the bag with the remaining three boxes to visit the other secretaries. I explained to each of them that it was an Atlanta brand not available here. They each thanked me. I felt pretty good about my generosity and the chance to introduce them to something they couldn't normally get.

When I got to Melissa's house that evening she and her parents were in the living room. The room had a TV set backed up to the front window. Her father sat in a large overstuffed chair to the left of the TV while her mother and she sat in two smaller chairs to the right. Directly in front of the TV was a small sofa which is where I sat. I gave Melissa the box of candy, which I kept behind my back until she sat down after letting me in.

"Wow," she said. "I've never seen such a large box of candy. It's beautiful."

"The brand is Russell Stover. It's an Atlanta company. You can't get it up here."

Melissa was still looking at the heart shaped box sitting on her lap. Without looking up, she said, "Why, of course you can. Russell Stover is all over the country. They had it out in San Diego."

"Oh, no! I bought small boxes for each of the other secretaries and told them it wasn't available here. They never said anything."