Perchance To Dream Pt. 04

(Three weeks later, and we find Jim has moved out to a hotel. He and Mel have been seeing each other for three Friday nights, and she stays over, but goes back to Alice on Saturday. We catch them as she's leaving on a Saturday morning.)

"Jim, I'll see you in a few days. Okay? Honey?"

"Yeah," I responded to Mel. "Of course, babe. I was just... just missing you already!" I forced a smile and a small laugh.

I watched Mel as she walked away from me towards the elevator of my hotel. She valet parked, so there wasn't any reason for me to follow her downstairs. She gave me a smile and a little wave as she stepped into the elevator car.

Reluctantly, I stepped back into my hotel room.

God, I hate this place.

But, no, it wasn't really the place I hated. The room was fine, room service was decent, and the neighbors only complained once about all the sexual noises emanating from within.

No, what I hated was the Melanie leaving part. This was our third time together after that initial Thursday night and Friday experience. And each time only got better. I mean, the sex was fantastic, of course. But, we were growing closer, much closer together. There's no logical reason for us to be so connected, but I felt it. And I'm pretty sure she felt it, too.

For instance, last night. We were chilling in the bed after some particularly strenuous activities and were both fairly wiped out. I got up to get us a fruit juice from the mini-bar and she turned on the TV.

The scene on the tube was a guy coming out of a tent, oh, it's the actor Slim Pickens. And, oh hell, it's Blazing Saddles! The fart scene is coming up! I reached for the remote to change the channel.

Melanie playfully grabbed the remote from my hand and said, "What are you doing?"

"It's, uh, Blazing Saddles. It's pretty crude."

"I know it's Blazing Saddles, you don't like this movie?"

"I love this movie! I didn't think you would!"

We went on to discuss which Mel Brooks movie was the best, I was pushing for Young Frankenstein but she was going for this one or The Producers. The discussion turned a little heated when I mentioned Matthew Broderick and Nathan Lane; she said Zero Mostel and Gene Wilder were the Real Producers. A wrestling match ensued as we each tried to assert our positions. She would say that she won, but I let her win. Sort of. I mean, she had my face in a pussy-lock and her finger up my ass. What was I supposed to do, keep fighting? No, I had her right where I wanted her.

But the good times came to an end the next morning like they always did, and she left to go back to her place, and the love of her life, my daughter Alice.

I sat on the edge of the bed, thinking how much I loved her, how much I needed her, and how I could still catch the faintest of scents from her perfume. The anguish weighed heavy on me and I tried to get up to take a shower, but I couldn't move. How can someone so wonderful, so perfect for me, and so into me, be in love with someone else! How the fuck can that happen!

And maybe I'm schizophrenic, or psychotic, or something. But there's a little voice in my head that messes with me, usually at the worst of times. Today it decided to fuck with me real hard.

You're not going to be with her, it said.

I know, but I love her so much.

You aren't right for her, you're too old.

Yeah, but that's her choice, I reasoned.

But she's not choosing you, let her go.

No! I can't let her go! She's, she's everything!

She doesn't love you.

Yes she does! I know she does!

No, she doesn't... not like you need her to... let her go

It was just about this point that I broke down and cried like a fucking child, like a little boy that dropped his ice cream in the dirt. Seriously, the only other time in my life that I cried like this was about six years ago when our dog died. She was such a sweet thing and I held her and soothed her as she crossed the bridge. That was horrible.

And this was far worse. The most amazing woman I could ever hope to meet, that I'm so in love with, in tune with, in sync with, and she doesn't love me. Oh, she does on some level, I'm sure of it. But not like I love her. And maybe she could, in time, but I'm too late. I'm just too late, she's already in love with another. There's nothing I can do. My fucking head hurt. In fact, my whole body hurt.

Finally, after several minutes of wallowing in my self-pity, I took my shower. I was going to see my friend Mike Wazowski, he had an old loft in a building that he was beginning to renovate and I was going to try to talk him into selling it to me. I can't go looking all blotchy. Come on asshole, let's get some self-respect back.

You're not going to dump her, are you.

Nope.

You're a pussy. What about Latrice, the black chick?

She can wait. Now shut the fuck up. I'll talk to Mel next week, let her know my issues and see where she's really at with all of this.

I went to get my new place sorted out.

- - -

My cell phone rang the next Friday evening. It was Melanie, of course.

"Hey Jim! The Uber guy says we're just a few blocks away."

"I'll be right down then!"

My new place was in a shabby part of town, the old meatpacking district, and I couldn't have Mel all by herself wandering around. I got downstairs just as an Escalade pulled up. I stepped to the passenger front window to talk to the driver.

"Will you be around in about an hour or so? We could use you." I put his number in my phone, flipped him a twenty, and then opened the rear door to let Mel out.

A foot appeared, encased in some gorgeous shoe, then a lovely hand eased out. I took her hand and helped her out of the car.

Shutting the door, I then took her in. A song played in my head all of a sudden:

Long Cool Woman In A Black Dress

I guess you'd call it a cocktail dress, or maybe a mini-dress. Whatever, she looked abso-fucking-lutely stunning in this little black number. It had about a two inch collar around her neck, with two fabric panels descending to cover her breasts with a nice opening in the front. A less confident woman would have worn a bra, or at least those invisible, adhesive push-up cups they sell for backless dresses. But not Mel, her 'girls' flowed freely to and fro, with just a faint outline of nipple rising from the peaks. Hints of bare breast flesh peaked out, depending on how she was standing, or leaning, at a particular moment. Jesus. The pleated dress covered her ass with at least an inch to spare, maybe two. The dark eyeliner made her emerald eyes pop. My groin felt funny.

After seeing this vision that was Mel, I just stepped in close and took her face in my hands. My lips melted into hers in a soft kiss, it felt like home. Time slowed, and the world began to fall away. We opened our mouths a bit and the soft kiss turned into a wet kiss. We worked our lips together a bit, tasting each other. She dropped her satchel to the ground and wrapped her arms around me. It had been so long...

Time stood still until Arnie yelled out, "Attaboy Jim! Git some!"

Chuckling, we broke the kiss.

"Who's your friend?" Mel asked, smiling at me.

I waved at Arnie and guided us to the elevator.

"That's my new best buddy, Arnie. This is his block."

"Is he homeless?"

"Not entirely sure, I slip him a ten-spot every morning though. But enough about him. You look stunning! Beyond stunning. I don't know if I can take you out in public!"

I took her hand and held it up over her head. Mel took the hint and twirled for me! The mini-dress pleats flew outward and dangerously upwards.

"I don't know what I did to deserve this," I grinned. "But I'm very happy I did it!"

I watched her smile as we entered the service elevator. It was one of those industrial sized lifts, you could drive a bobcat or a forklift into the cage.

"No hanky panky in the elevator," I informed Mel. "We shouldn't touch anything in here!"

I held both her hands and just admired her. I couldn't stop grinning, or staring.

"Do you like my new shoes? They're Prada, I bought them to wear with this dress... you know... for you."

I looked down at her three inch high heeled black pumps.

"They're gorgeous, you're... breathtaking!"

Her smile radiated happiness, good feelings, joy... all for me!

The elevator jerked to a stop and we exited after lifting the cage door. In contrast to the industrial decor, the elevator let out into a modern little lobby area. Next to the regular, human-sized door stood a giant roll-up door. We entered the regular door to my place.

"Holy, um... wow!" exclaimed Mel as she gazed upon the expansive area. "I... uh... love what you've done with the place! 'Early Demolition', is it?"

Piles of junk, pallets, machinery parts, and tons of other miscellaneous crap covered a good part of the 17,000 square foot 6th floor. In the corner closest to the door sat the managers and supervisors offices, which had been converted to a half-decent living area. My friend owned the building and had big plans for it; shops downstairs and swanky lofts upstairs. It was all a part of a 'Downtown Revitalization' program going on in in the city.

I showed Mel around the offices-turned-living area.

"Hey, this is pretty nice! You've got a bar! And a bed..." She tossed her satchel on the bed, it contained some female whatnots and her other clothes.

"King-size, of course! And new appliances, along with a decent shower. I'm going to close escrow in about a month but my friend Mike said it was okay for me to move in."

I watched as Mel surveyed the expansive space and I couldn't help but smile. A few moments later, I continued speaking.

"As far as the floors below goes, they're still in the design stage. After that comes approvals, refusals, bribes, you know how it is. Probably two years until construction starts. However, purchasing this floor is actually a lot cheaper than the hotel I was staying in, and I feel better owning something of my own."

She grinned and then spoke.

"I like what you've done so far, but you know it could really use a woman's touch, right?"

"Would you be designing the space for me, or for us?"

Her face broke into a big smile, and she quickly changed the subject.

"And just look at this beautiful bar."

I escorted her over to the bar area and sat Mel in one of the industrial looking barstools. They had tractor seats that swiveled; very chic.

"I would ask 'What'll you have', but I've only got Grey Goose and cranberry juice at the moment. Oh! Or pomegranate juice."

"How about... a Vodka pom?"

"Excellent choice!" I mixed us up a couple of pomegranate martinis and we sipped them for several moments. I sat on the barstool next to Mel, scooting it closer to her. I placed my hand on her hand, which rested on her knee.

"Mel," I began. And my mind spun out of control. I had so much to say to her. I knew I needed to talk about my difficulties in dealing with our lifestyle arrangements, but she just got here and I didn't want to start the evening off with a 'discussion.' And she looked so nice, I could tell she spent a minor fortune on her outfit, and she did that for me.

But looking into Mel's eyes, I lost myself. This was... the love of my life, I should only be honest with her. Apparently, a fair amount of time had passed as I struggled internally.

"What, Jim? What is it?" Her smile dazzled me.

"I'm... just so glad you're here, in the flesh. I've missed you. It's been a long fucking week." There, that's enough for now, isn't it? Without getting too deep at first?

"I'm glad I'm here too, with you. And I'm so happy you've got your own place now. I like it better than the hotel. No noise complaints here."

I actually turned a few shades of pink, that was kind of an embarrassing call from the manager, sure enough.

We sipped our drinks for a minute or so until Mel broke the silence and looked into my eyes.

"You seem... not yourself, Jim. Are you doing okay?"

I drained my drink in two gulps. The warmth radiated throughout my chest. Ahhhh, better.

I smiled at her. "I just like you too much."

"Like?" she smirked back at me. "Last week you loved me! Now I'm down to like? Are you friend-zoning me?" I love her being a bratty smart-ass to me.

I stood up and pulled her up also. Then I grabbed her ass cheeks and hoisted her up, she wrapped her legs around me as we kissed deeply. Mel shook herself a little, grinding her pelvis into my hardening cock.

"I love you too much," I whispered, finishing the kiss and setting her back on the ground. "And, you're going to give me a fucking hernia! Why do I keep picking you up?"

"I don't know, old man. Maybe you should put some exercise equipment up in here! Do some squats. And, hey, you can't love me too much, handsome." Mel caressed the back of my head and neck, playing with my hair. "Are we actually going out? I know you made reservations, but we don't have to go..." She dropped a hand down and fondled my basket.

I slid my hand up her body, not softly, I pressed rather firmly. Up her hips, her waist, resting at the side of her breast.

"But you got all dressed up in this great dress-"

"For you, Jim... (kiss on my cheek)... I dressed up... (kiss on my other cheek)... for you. I don't have to go... (longer kiss on my lips)... anywhere. Let's... (kiss) just christen your new place."

We kissed deeply, our lips pressed hard against each other. Our tongues met in their delicious dance, searching for each other, as if trying to gain some sort of an advantage. She let out a small "oh" as my hand grazed the area between her legs, still outside her dress, though.

"How you doin' down there?" I like being polite, you know, asking about her welfare.

"The weather report looks to be... (kiss) swampy, with a chance of flooding." She grabbed me and kissed me so hard it almost hurt. Then she pulled back, breathing heavily. She reached around to the back of her neck. "Okay help me get this thing off."

"No."

"No?" she asked, incredulously.

"We're going out. If for no other reason than that dress needs to be seen by everybody. It can't just get thrown on the floor in a fit of lust, it needs a dinner first!"

She gave me a sexy, pouty look before she spoke.

"I guess we can wait, or maybe your plan is to make me that much more crazy for you."

I grinned at her, and then called the Uber boy while she went to the bed to get her stuff and freshen up.

- - -

We arrived at Lee Ho Fook's, the hottest new place in town. 'Chinese With A Twist', they advertised. And they claimed their beef chow mein was supposedly to die for. They shared the bar area with another restaurant; kind of an old fogey place named Trader Vic's. We were a bit early for our reservation so we got a seat at one of the high-tops in the bar area.

The waitress came and took our drink order, and I remembered I had broken a cardinal rule.

"Back in a moment, babe. I couldn't piss back home with my hard on, but I need to now!"

She smiled brightly at me.

"There is such a thing as too much sharing, you know?"

When I returned, two, count 'em two, guys were trying to pick up on Mel. One guy, though, I had to laugh. He was drinking a pina colada, complete with the little umbrella. What self-respecting man drinks pina coladas? His hair was perfect, though. Gotta give him that. He had a lot of it.

"Scuse me, boys," I put the emphasis on 'boys'. "Run along home, now."

Pina Colada guy looked shocked. "Wait, What?... you gotta be shitting me. You're practically old enough to be her father! Come on!"

The guy was impeccably dressed, too. I'd like to meet his tailor! He kind of reminded me of that Teen Wolf guy. I gave him my steely-eyed stare, with a hint of a smile that meant 'I could kill you right now and not worry too much about it.' I don't know if he got all that, though. So I stepped up to him and said, "Hey, Wolfie. I'm older than her father!"

His friend howled like a wolf in the moonlight and punched him in the shoulder while I made the little motion with my hand telling them to move along. Wolfie walked away, tail between his legs, followed by his buddy who was still laughing and howling at him.

- - -

Ming came to take our order after the hostess seated us at our table. There was a 'Ming' in my Audit department at my office that had the well-earned nickname of 'Ming the Mercilessly Ugly.' This wasn't her, not by a long shot. To both our credit, though, neither Mel nor I flirted with her.

"We're just gonna hang for a bit before we order, if that's alright. Two Goose gimlets, please. Rocks."

"Actually," piped in Mel. "Chopin, if you please. Up."

Ming assured us we were fine and told us to relax and enjoy, the drinks would be here shortly.

"Wow," I said in mock disgust. "So this is our third fight, then. First, you don't like the rain. Second, you don't know what a good movie is. And now this: Chopin, huh? I thought you liked Grey Goose?"

"Well, Grey Goose is fine, of course, for the unwashed masses- Ow!"

I kicked Mel under the table. Well, not kicked, just a tiny love tap. Really, I didn't kick her!

"It's like I don't even know who you are anymore," I muttered, shaking my head.

Mel reached across the table and grabbed me by my chin and said in a low, sexy voice, "I'm the woman who's going to fuck the shit out of you in about two hours." She turned on her bedroom eyes and gave me that sexy smirk that I love so Goddamned much.

"Oh yeah!" I said slowly. "Now I remember you!"

I rose up a bit so I could lean over the table, and I kissed her luscious lips. Those lovely lips... so soft...

"Sorry guys!" the drink runner said in a way-too-cheerful voice. She asked if we needed anything else as she placed our drinks.

Staring into Mel's eyes, I asked the girl, "Did I get the Goose?"

"Yessir. And the lady has the Chopin."

"Then we're all good for now. Thank you."

I don't think my wife and I ever looked into each other's eyes like this. But I could look into Mel's eyes all night. And I knew why, too. It's because my feelings for Mel were honest. There wasn't anywhere else I'd rather be than with her. I had no secrets with her. Well, almost none.

"What are we doing, Melanie. Why are we here?" I asked.

"I don't know, silly. This was your idea to come out. You could've been balls deep inside of me right about now..."

I laughed, then suggested a toast.

"To going 'balls deep'."

"Balls Deep," she responded. Then she added, "Whenever, and wherever you can!"

We clinked and sipped.

"So, Mr. Jansen, Sir," Mel teased as she bit the plastic stir-straw. Drink number three was getting to us both. "Are you going to talk to me, or what?"

I huffed a little bit, surprised that she can know me so well already.

"Yes, just working up to it." And I drank more of my gimlet.

"Is it that bad?" She smiled a nervous smile at me.

"No, just a bit scary." I took a deep breath and took the plunge. "Okay, look. What we have is... new, and exciting, and wonderful. But it's more than that, much more than just that. You have gotten... like, under my skin, in a way nobody has even come close to before."

"Jim, it was just one finger in your ass! I promise! Only one finger!"

I fell back in my chair and laughed like an idiot! She held up her pointer finger and wiggled it at me.

"Omigod, sweetheart. Not under my skin that way! And besides, I know it was the whole fist! But, listen." I had to pause and wait for both of us to compose ourselves.

"Okay... Mel, I just... I love you, so much. It's like everything before this was just... child's play in comparison. It's hard for me to say how much I feel for you, and maybe it's hard for you to believe, it's only been three or four weeks... but it's true. I am so in love with you..."