Nothing Matters: The Librarian

"But we're already sharing Melanie!" He had shouted.

"That's not the same thing. She's belongs to everyone...it doesn't count."

"What? That doesn't make any sense. Is that okay with you Melanie?" He had pleaded with her.

"You know, she isn't wrong." Melanie had responded without any rancor or indignity. Thinking back on it, she realized she never refused anyone. "I think that's correct, I do belong to everybody now. And, it doesn't really bother me."

"Melon Head chose her, not us. I'm going home for a while. I've been here for too long. Go or stay, I don't care!" Juliet shouted, gathered her things and had left.

Melanie tried to soothe him after things had quieted down, "Don't worry. She just needs some space, we've been like peas in a pod for too long. Cabin fever."

"Was it that crazy of an idea? You seem happy living like that, so I thought maybe we all could, you know?"

"Well, here's the thing. You don't mind when I fuck around do you?"

He shook his head.

"But what if Juliet did?"

He paled a bit, realizing the truth, "I'd be mad."

She nodded, "That's right, and that's how she feels too if you fucked another woman."

"Ya, it's weird. I don't feel jealous when you play around with the Murphy's or Doctor Hugh or even Mr. Lang though he's kind of old. Well really old. He might have a heart attack."

"Okay, that's enough. You get the point: no one is jealous of me. No one person owns me. That's just how it is. It's weird, I agree." Melanie was stroking his cock.

She sniffed it like a curious cat, noting that it still had Juliet's scent on it. "Really convenient though, I have to say." Seeing that it had perked up again, she had no qualms about relieving him of his burden despite the awkward circumstances.

Spring returned and the couple had smoothed over the difficulty though they both agreed that it wasn't wise to be living with Melanie so they returned to weekly visits, sometimes together, sometimes not. Juliet got comfortable enough not to rush to put on clothes when other visitors came but she would slip on a dress or retire to the store room most times.

One day, the bell rang when Melanie was face deep into Juliet as the younger woman was splayed out on the wingback chair. Juliet flushed a bit but didn't order Melanie to stop, instead pulling a loose shirt over her chest for some semblance of modesty.

"One minute, Mr. Mortensen," Juliet raised a hand. She turned her head when she saw that the customer had his own interests.

Mr. Mortensen said, "Well, I'm not going to ignore what's on display here." He unzipped, knelt down, and slipped his cock into Melanie whose rear had been wagging its invitation.

Melanie exclaimed in pleasure, adding as her head popped up, "What if Harlan comes back? This isn't going to look good."

"Nothing is happening, don't stop. I'll get dressed once I am satisfied."

"I'll pretend I didn't see anything," Mr. Mortensen offered, thrusting away.

"Thank you, sir. If it was Harlan sitting here, it's not like he would be cheating, so it's okay."

"Not that I'd mind that either," the sprightly gentleman added. They all laughed in unison.

After a while, Melanie stood up, wiping her mouth, "Back to work. What else can I help you with Mr. Mortensen?" Juliet pulled on a sunflower print dress and scampered off.

"Actually, I was wondering if you did house calls. I am having a bachelor party next week for one of my good friends. Don't worry, the bride to be knows and has agreed to it as long as it is you."

"I wouldn't have been concerned anyways, but thank you for the thought," she winked. "Big party?"

"About ten or twelve of our friends will be joining in, is that too many?"

"Hardly," Melanie responded quickly, lust energized. She'd never had so many at one time though the Murphy's had brought a couple of their buddies over on occasion. It was also exciting to get out for once. She never liked going out in the past but the prospect of it was stimulating this time.

On the day of the party, she had Harlan and Juliet fill in for her at the library.

Although the weather was still cool, she still didn't bother with putting anything on, in fact, she'd forgotten by this time when she had worn anything more than a blanket or the threadbare apron. She managed to find some slippers though she debated even that, put on a sun hat, took up a shoulder bag with a water bottle and a hand scrawled note with directions, wrapped a scarf around her neck, gave her two friends a peck and a pat, and stepped out the front door for the first time in what seemed like years. The front garden was abuzz with spring bloom and the golden sunlight streamed through the canopy of the old trees whose roots were buckling the stone walkways. Alien creeper vines and the ubiquitous "kudzu" were entwined over everything including the tree trunks, fences, broken down benches, and everywhere underfoot.

She had to be careful not to get tripped as the made her way out of the front gate of the property, rusting arches mobbed by the growth. Melanie briefly looked back at the library building, its weather stained sides dressed in the yellow and green foliage, glass windows like golden eyes reflecting the truculent sunlight. It was one of the biggest structures in the town next to city hall which was the next block over and barely visible past the wild overgrowth. The place looked abandoned, like a cover of an old book about a lost future land after centuries of decay and decline. In some ways, she thought this must be true.

On the main avenue, asphalt crumbling from the lack of proper maintenance, there were few pedestrians and only a couple motorized vehicles that had to carefully maneuver around gaping potholes and more of the unruly growth that plagued the entire town. There was some effort to cut it back, but no one either cared, or dared, to use herbicides to uproot it. The men tipped their hats to her while the women nodded. Most people wore homespun again or a patchwork of the old machine made clothes that were still around. Textiles still came in on occasion with the minor trade with other regions that including goods that could not be sourced locally.

Her destination was a couple miles away and she could have requested a ride but she decided she wanted to take the scenic route. She vaguely recalled what the old city center had used to look like but it was wildly different now compared to her youth. Most of the bigger buildings were long abandoned and dangerous. Many people had moved away to places unknown, or at least she hoped. There were darker speculations but the thought wouldn't stay in one's mind for too long.

Anything unpleasant rarely did.

"Melanie! Is that you?" someone shouted.

She stared for a moment before recognizing Heather Morales, someone from high school who she hadn't seen in years. When did she get that old? Melanie wondered. She looked like she was in her late twenties or early thirties, but didn't they only graduate a couple years ago? No, the Melon Head's hadn't arrived yet and that must have been...she couldn't figure the time at all, especially since few people kept calendars.

"You look exactly the same as ever? I want whatever it is you're using to keep your skin so perfect!"

A sudden knowledge formed in her head, so she replied, "Your husband might not approve of the method."

Heather put her hand to her mouth, realizing, "Of course, I forgot to introduce you. Geoffrey Lane. I'm Mrs. Lane now."

Melanie politely held out a hand and they shook, touching only the fingertips awkwardly. Mr. Lane didn't seem phased but carefully made sure not to stare.

Heather coughed, "We heard about Melon Head coming here but I never thought it was you who was chosen. There's actually another chosen one on our side of town, you don't remember her, Cassiopeia? She was a junior. I was so nervous about our nuptials but she was just a doll, right, Geoff? She really helped relieve the tension."

She nudged her husband, who gave out a nervous grunt.

"I should come by, maybe the four of us?" Melanie grinned.

"That would be swell, we could catch up at last. You'd have to stay overnight." Her husband seemed to brighten at the idea.

"I'm living at the library, just drop a note whenever with your address. I'm making another house call so I have to be going, it was great to see you! Ta-ta!"

"Of course, great seeing you. Have fun." A burst of daring caused Heather to goose Melanie on the butt. Her husband tried to hide the chub in his slacks but failed.

"Now, honey, save that for when we get home. Bye now."

Melanie was somewhat cheered. She'd worried a bit about bumping into people she knew but the encounter comforted her somewhat. The twinge of moral judgement was still there, but somehow dulled and quickly diminished. She'd seen it in Heather's eyes, that condescending tone verging on pity in her voice, but it had evaporated as if by a magic spell. It was clear that the Melon Head had thrown some kind of glamor over the world, yet, it wasn't unpleasant or even objectionable.

She moved on.

The sense of absolute freedom thrilled her. She'd known it for a while but the proof of it out in the open was icing on the cake. And the bonus of a rejuvenated youth was nice too. Ever since meeting Melon Head, she had felt healthier than ever in her life. Her complexion had improved and she had the certain feeling that she wouldn't get sick or pregnant. The latter she had known from stories she'd heard about Melon Head although she had thought the transference would have been more dramatic than a mere touch. However it happened, she was at peace with it, no matter how unnatural.

Checking her map, she passed by a church which was one of the landmarks. Few people attended these days but there were a few die-hards. One of them stepped out to watch her pass but he refrained from casting judgement. None of that mattered anymore to the general public. If this was the road to hell, it still seemed rather pleasant compared to the stress, chaos, strife, and uncertainty of the before times.

The rest of the walk went without incident, and she was generally unmolested though the occasional grope occurred. She had no sense of violation or fear; no resentment nor rejection. There was nothing to gain or to lose, she just existed as a lightning rod of desire and wish fulfillment, somehow sending all those misbegotten emotions to the earth at her feet wherever she stood. The bitter reproaches of the old world had no traction here. She was a pure land that could not be despoiled no matter who or what touched her.

The party was being held at a private home. The cul-de-sac was at the end of a suburban street where a small community still prospered, where fresh gardens were grown and the streets blocked off from traffic. Some homes had been razed to turn into communal property where livestock was kept. Each region had to sustain itself now that commerce was limited. No more refrigerated trucks loaded with goods from far off factory farms for the most part. The manna grew everywhere and could supply all nutrients but people still had a taste for some of the old varietals and products such as eggs, ham, and chicken. In much smaller quantities now, but still staples. Beef was extremely rare as the old ranches were mostly gone although milk cows were still kept when possible.

The street had a little market with vendors plying their goods. They smiled and waved, a few called for her to join them but she shook her head. So she could still refuse, and she did so now since she didn't want to be late. There was no disappointment or urgency, everyone seemed to know they could partake of her charms some other day, or from someone else who would offer. It must be a market day, as the avenue was abuzz with the most people she had seen in years so she had to squeeze by people checking out the wares, including her own.

Someone ran his hand across her flank and managed to home in on a feel of her pubic mound, slipping a finger past her gates. She politely paused to allow the stranger a moment to satisfy his curiosity. She was fine being in a state of perpetual consent, that's why she was chosen after all. The ones that weren't, were safe and could live a life free of the old battles and unsolicited molestations. The desire for possessive control had been drained from mankind.

Melanie spotted a girl with wavy hair, permed and colored purple with dark roots, walking naked in the crowd. The girl jumped up excitedly when she saw her in turn. Not many salons these days but some people still practiced, she assumed. Melanie's own hair was a long dark bramble of loose ends that somehow still managed to be somewhat presentable though not by any old world standards.

"Hi! You must be Melanie. I'm here for the party too!"

There was an awkward hug. Melanie noted the goosebumps on the other woman's skin due to the late spring chill still in the air. It hadn't even registered to Melanie during the long walk. She said, "No one told me there would someone else. Are you Cassy?"

The girl shook her head, "No, I'm Jessica. I was chosen last summer."

"Oh, just like me then! It will almost be a year, so that makes sense. Melon Head must have come by here too."

Changing the subject, the girl grabbed Melanie's hand, "We're running late. They told me to wait here for you and take you the rest of the way. I thought I was going to get mobbed until you showed up."

Melanie was puzzled at the last part, but she was excited about the event so ignored the question in her head. The party was in a neighborhood clubhouse that had been retrofitted into a community center with an upgraded sound system and a main room big enough to hold a modest wedding. In fact, it would be turned into that venue in the next few days. They had a diesel generator to supply more reliable power for the string of disco lights. There was even a DJ mixing tracks, music blaring from a stack of refurbished speakers. There was an air of nostalgia for a lost world.

The crowd was much bigger than she was told, by at least two to three times, as news must have spread. Even in these quieter times, people still craved some social interaction. There was the smell of BBQ in the air as someone had set up a grill outside the sliding glass doors of the clubhouse. Inside, an ancient stag film was being projected onto a wall though few people were actually watching the lurid pornography. A great cheer went up when the crowd spotted the two naked women. It wasn't a pure bachelor party as there were a few other women mixed into the bunch. Clearly, the hosts had lost control of the event and now it was just a general neighborhood jamboree. The thumping bass from the music could be heard for blocks like a clarion call.

A man Melanie didn't recognize shouted for them to follow him. Jessica shrugged her shoulders as they complied. He pointed to a table overladen with mismatched cups, mugs, and tumblers besides cases of bottled alcohol. The recycled glass was almost opaque from countless washings and reuse. There were even a couple full sized metal kegs, also battered from years of use.

The two began serving drinks to the crowd. Melanie had no issue with the swirl of hands grabbing her as she delivered the foaming beverages. Jessica seemed to struggle a bit, smacking a hand away that got a bit too fresh. By this time, Melanie's suspicions were confirmed but she decided to keep them to herself.

Still, it was exhausting and not the kind of "work" she had planned on, so Melanie was glad to get a break after an hour. The crowd seemed a bit disappointed to see them go, but the party continued without pause. There was a quieter back room where there were sofas and recliners haphazardly arranged. A few curious heads turned when Melanie and Jessica tumbled inside, closing the door to minimize the incessant beat of the music.

The purple haired girl gave out a big sigh and threw herself onto an empty pleather couch, not caring that her sweat was sticking to it. Melanie sat at a round table beside a couple older gentlemen who had been smoking and nursing tumblers of stronger liquor. She relaxed on the chair, legs splayed on the table, glad to be finally off her feet. The men protected their glasses from tipping over and continued their conversation. For now, she thought of the man on the left as Silver Goatee and the one on the right as Mister Bulldog, due to his flat face, since no one bothered to introduce each other.

"A prime example right there. I'm not saying it didn't happen in those days, I was young once too, but I don't think this was a usual thing before those strange beings took over," Mr. Bulldog remarked. He side eyed Melanie as she was examining her left tit where someone had chomped down on with some enthusiasm. The welts were already fading, so she wasn't too concerned.

Goatee shook his head, "The sex trade was global. There was no place that didn't have prostitution or other illicit activities. An endless flood of pornography available at the click of a mouse. There were even entire cities or red light districts dedicated to hedonism. What is the difference now?"

"We're not charging anything," Melanie interjected.

Without breaking stride, he kept going, "A lot of people back then didn't either, depending on circumstances and proper discretion. The general public simply did not accept it if it was flouted too far and wide, at least not for long, and especially if it went viral on the media sphere of the time. There would have been a crackdown, backlash, laws made or amended, public shaming and banishment. A few years later, maybe those would be forgotten, and then another generation might push the limits again to only be quashed once again. That was the cycle."

"Well, granted, and there is no media worth mentioning anymore to generate outrage..." Mister Bulldog trailed off as he noticed that Melanie had busied herself on some self-love. She had been anticipating some dicking all day and the teasing had finally brought her over her limit. "I think there would have been calls for a psychiatric examination and drug testing in this case," he pointed in her direction as she closed her eyes and ignored them.

"I feel no sense of moral panic, at least not yet," the first man rubbed his goatee. "I mean, it's clearly not anything normal, but it oddly does seem quite normal at the same time."

"Well, we're both heterosexual men without the encumbrance of the old social order so our opinion on the matter is suspect," the second man took a drag on his cigarillo. "We haven't been boys in decades, but this scene would have been a rather pedestrian fantasy, would it not?"

"Certainly, though it's not something I ever saw outside of the old internet. I still think the socio-economic factors are worth looking it. Don't you think it interesting that this sort of thing was acceptable in both extremely high levels of hierarchy as well as the lowest? Though I guess when the poor indulged in such things, it was considered trashy." He turned back to Melanie, "I do enjoy the show, so please don't stop on account of us." She wasn't planning on stopping so she just gave him a smile.

Goatee stayed focused on the line of thought, "So, you've been to Amsterdam but you never went to a live show? Never tempted to try out one of the legal brothels?"

"Too busy at the conferences for that nonsense. I do miss the weed though, they just don't grow the same these days. Regardless, we need someone with an unadulterated viewpoint."

"It's quite possible that such a person no longer exists. Even my ex, you recall she was very conservative, didn't seem impressed when a Melon Head girl fucked her dad right in the living room. We absolutely must be under some kind of influence. I really doubt if it can be explained away as mass psychosis."