Melvins Magic Love Juice Ch 05

Rain sheeted through the sky in heavy torrents, drenching the world, and the storm showed no sigs of letting up. Lightening zigzagged in crooked electric branches, zapping lightening rods, sparks showering, and frightening everyone who chanced glances upwards. Thunder, lightning's grumpy companion, rumbled like a hungry old man. Rather than becoming soaked to the bone, Melvin and Richie drove to the cafe though it was two blocks from their building, and they lucked out, finding an empty space in the parking garage next door.

“The whole world’s getting pissed on today,” Richie said as they climbed out of the car. The parking garage echoed with the sound of pattering rain on cement. Melvin nodded. Saying anything seemed like too much of an effort; his entire body felt submerged under water, every movement slow and heavy.

“You’re a man of many words,” Richie said with his sly grin, and Melvin only shrugged in reply. They made their way to the cafe.

A cute young waitress shot them a sweet smile as they entered and led them to a table near the back corner. She had long brown hair, tied in pigtails, making her look even younger than her years. Her dark brown eyes glowed in the reflection of the hanging lights.

“Excuse me, miss. Is Courtney working today?” Melvin asked her as he sat down. Richie’s ears pricked. He wanted to hear this.

“Oh, you know Court? Actually, she called in sick today. Good day to call in, too. Not going to get too much business with all hell breaking loose outside,” the waitress said, glancing towards the windows. The glass seemed to be sweating water on the other side; layers of it slid down the windows and puddled on the sidewalk. Melvin’s face dropped. If Courtney was sick, he could forget about their date tonight.

“Yep, the whole world’s getting pissed on,” Richie announced as if this explained everything. He didn’t seem surprised by the news of Courtney’s illness, and a smug look crossed his face as if to say “I knew it.” Richie refused to believe that any woman could be interested in the likes of Melvin. After all, Richie had seen Melvin’s feeble attempts to pick up women before, and it was sad enough to make a grown man cry.

“Thanks,” Melvin said. The waitress scooted away, her pigtails flapping. Melvin turned to Richie, and Richie shrugged, the smug looked still on his face. Melvin wanted to wipe that look off so badly, but what did it matter if Richie believed him or not? Still, wiping it off would make him feel much better.

“I should call her,” Melvin said. Richie nodded.

“Yeah, sure. I mean, at least she has a good excuse to stand you up,” Richie said. Melvin didn’t reach for his phone. The waitress came back with smiles and drinks for them both, beer for Richie and ice water for Melvin; Richie thanked her and took a sip of his frothy brew. Richie and Melvin sat in silence for a moment. Thunder grumbled outside, and the lights flickered off and on in the cafe.

“At least the day can’t get much worse,” Melvin murmured. Richie seemed to peer over Melvin’s shoulder and raised his eyebrows. A strange expression passed his face. He put down his mug and pointed past Melvin.

“Don’t underestimate your shitty luck. There’s your ex wife.”

Melvin twisted his neck to glance over his shoulder. At a nearby table, their waitress was sitting Melvin’s ex wife, Abigail, and a girl he recognized as Abby’s niece, Tina. Tina was the daughter that Abby had always wanted, and she’d often comment on how she planned on molding Tina into her own image. And what image would that be, Melvin wondered. The image of a gold digging whore? Not something most women wanted to be when they grew up. Melvin turned back to face Richie, his cheeks pale and ashy.

“Maybe she won’t see us,” Melvin said with a twinge of hope.

“No such luck. She’s waving,” Richie replied and took a large gulp of his beer. Melvin turned in his seat and saw that Richie was right; Abby was waving them over with a friendly smile curling her lips. No doubt she wanted to rub how well she was doing without Melvin in his face.

“Richie, Melvin! Join us!” she called, her deceitful eyes gleaming.

On any other day, Melvin would have declined. However, this time he had something on Abby: the love juice. He knew that she’d become irresistibly attracted to him, and he could do with her as he pleased. But it didn’t seem very ethical to use the love juice for revenge on his slutty ex wife. Still, the thought was tempting. He could fuck her in the ass and leave her begging for more much like she left him after banging the lawn boy. This was not a thought the old Melvin MacMuffin would have ever had. Melvin smiled and returned Abby’s wave. Oh waitress, I’ll have a dish of revenge this afternoon, and would you please make sure it’s served cold?

“We’d love to,” he replied. Richie shot him an incredulous look, almost spitting up the swallow of beer he was drinking. Melvin shrugged, stood up, and made his way to Abby’s table, Richie a few steps behind.

Melvin had to admit that Abby looked great. She had her dark brown hair cut stylishly short just past her ears, and the purple circles that used to always reside under her eyes were nowhere to be found. Her ample bosom heaved beneath a white sweater, and Melvin wondered if maybe she’d gotten a boob job. He didn’t remember her breasts looking so big and firm before. Her teeth were white and straight; she’d definitely had some work done there. Melvin figured she must have found a new sugar daddy sometime in the past year or so; it had been quite some time since he’d last spoken to her.

“It’s good to see you, Abigail,” he said, holding out his hand for her to shake. Instead, she stood from her chair and wrapped her arms around Melvin in a big hug, her boobs mashing against his chest. It must have been cold in the restaurant because Melvin could feel her hard nipples underneath her sweater. Was she not wearing a bra? He was now certain she had gotten a boob job.

“You too, Mel. It’s been a long time,” she said, her head snuggled into his shoulder. She unwrapped him and broke the hug. Melvin’s chest felt warm where her breasts had pressed against it.

Melvin pulled up a chair and sat down at the table. Richie exchanged hellos with Abigail sans hug and sat down, gulping a long drink from his beer mug. He wished he didn’t have to go back to work, so he could get drunk. The pigtailed waitress appeared, took orders, and scurried away still writing on her notepad. Melvin noticed Richie checking out the girl’s butt as she walked away.

“Hey, Uncle Melvin,” said Tina flashing him a set a pearly white teeth. How old would she be now? Nineteen? She had grown up quite a bit since the last time that Melvin had seen her. She wore short white shorts and a tight pink tank top, a silver star decorating the curve of her chest. She had dressed for a sunny summer day, but the storm outside had ruined any chance of that. Tina’s curly blonde hair was pulled back and was held together by a pencil on the top of her head, and her eyes were a shimmering dark blue. Melvin remembered that like Abigail, Tina had been a head cheerleader during high school; Abigail had often bragged about Tina following in her footsteps. Melvin felt sorry for her.

“Tina, how are you?” Melvin said, returning her smile.

“Just great.”

“You look wonderful,” Abigail cut in, demanding Melvin’s attention. Her hand floated through the air and rested on his wrist. Her fingers gingerly wrapped around him, a gesture of an affectionate lover. Melvin chanced a glance at Richie and saw that Richie’s eyes were glued to Abigail’s hand on his wrist. Richie looked up and gave Melvin a disgusted look. Richie figured Abigail was already trying to play him like a fiddle, but what Richie didn’t know was that Melvin would be doing the only playing of anyone today. Abigail may have a fiddle, but Melvin was the composer. Melvin faced her.

“So do you. Better than I remember,” he said, turning up his charm level to eleven. He placed his free hand over her hand and patted it. In return, he felt her squeeze his wrist. It was as if they had never split up. But not really. Abigail had never been so friendly to him. In the old days, she had treated him with a mixture of disdain and embarrassment, and she had hated the fact that she had to marry such a dork to live the kind of life she deserved. What had changed since then? What made her treat Melvin like a human being for once in her life? The love juice. Melvin allowed a finger to tap Abigail’s wedding band.

“Remarried, I see. Who’s the lucky guy?” he said. Abigail’s eyes moved down to her fingers, and her face dropped, a small blush reddening her cheeks. Did she think that Melvin wouldn’t notice? Melvin was more than happy to take the chance to embarrass her, and he was more than curious at what sort of man she had roped into marriage this time.

“He’s great. A banker,” she said, covering her wedding band with other hand. Melvin pictured her husband in his head. He’d be a geeky looking nerd with a bow tie and thick glasses, a man from the same mold that Melvin had been shaped. The banker would be loaded, of course, to satiate Abby’s monetary needs, and Abby most likely was banging the pool boy or the milk man or the mail man or the UPS man or all of them meanwhile on the side. This was her modus operandi, and why mess with a good thing? It had worked before, and it would work again. If she ever got caught with one of her boy toys, she’d simply move on to the next hapless loser with a wad of cash.

Melvin felt a flush of anger try to rise to his cheeks, and he took a quick swallow of water to cool himself down. At this moment, he hated Abby. Hated everything she stood for and everything that she had put him through. She was a despicable human being; a woman who used her sexuality as a weapon to intimidate men, strip them of their defenses, and slice off their masculinity. Then again, wasn’t Melvin planning to use his own sexuality as a weapon against her? He wondered if he was no better than she was. A sick feeling wormed its way through his stomach.

“You ok, Uncle Mel?” Tina asked, concerned. Melvin’s discomfort must have been apparent on his face. He nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he said, but it was a lie. He wasn’t fine. The world seemed suddenly very heavy; exhaustion threatened to force his eyes closed. The weight of everything careened towards him, attempting to plunge him into the recesses of a deep personal hell. He made his eyes stay open. Abby smiled politely at him from what seemed like an eternity away.

A hand slipped under the table and rested on his inner thigh. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn’t Abby’s hand. It was Tina’s. The hand began to caress his thigh. He looked over at her, and a sly grin curved her lips. Her hand began to slide down further towards his crotch.

His head swooned. The memories of Abigail’s infidelity making him burn with hatred coupled with the hand of her lovely niece on his leg under the table was too much to process at once. For a moment, Melvin thought he was going to be sick.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he said, pushing himself away from the table and standing up. What was wrong with him? Dizziness almost forced him back into his chair, but he fought it and headed towards the bathroom in lurching steps.

They watched him leave. Tina sipped at her drink for a moment, rolling her straw between two long fingers, the wheels of her mind turning thoughts through mental gears. She didn’t remember Uncle Melvin being so cute.

Abigail turned a questioning gaze towards Richie and asked, “What was that all about?”

Richie shrugged, took another swallow of his beer and said, “Babe, the whole world is getting pissed on today.” As the first waves of his beer buzz slipped over him, Richie felt that this statement explained everything.

***

Melvin closed the stall door behind him and collapsed on a toilet seat. He placed his hands on opposite sides of the stall for support as the entire world revolved around him. As the world began to slow its rotation, Melvin heard his cell phone ringing. His gut reaction told him that it was the witch.

“Mel, maybe we should move up our meeting,” the witch said as soon as Melvin pressed the phone’s talk button and held it against his ear. Her voice still had that silky hypnotic effect that he remembered, and it helped to steady Melvin’s sense of balance.

“What’s happening to me?” he said. His glasses dipped, and he had to take his remaining hand off one side of the stall and push them back on his nose. He realized that he could now sit without fear of falling over.

“A teeny tiny side effect of the love juice, my dear boy,” the witch replied and began to talk in a singsong voice. “Oh baby... I’ve... got what you need... but you say you’re just a friend. Oh, you say you’re just a friend.” Melvin recognized the tune, but the witch had changed the words. Then her tone of voice changed, and she purred, “So why don’t you pop over so we can get friendly?”

“I... I don’t... what are you talking about?”

The witch sighed into the phone, “Melvin. It’s understandable that you’re feeling drained. What you need is some sustenance, and this is exactly what I can provide. At the rate you’re going, you’re going to need it before your big date tonight. Now I’ve already called your hottie lawyer, and she’s gonna swing by and pick you up after lunch. I have a feeling you’re going to need a little pick me up.”

“Uncle Melvin?” a girl’s voice said on the other side of the stall door. Melvin jumped. What was Abigail’s niece doing in the men’s room?

“Tina?” he said.

“Looks like you might be a little more drained than expected,” the witch said, and the phone went dead in Melvin’s ear. Melvin stuffed his phone into his jacket pocket. What the hell was going to happen to him now?

Tina pushed the stall door open and stepped inside. Melvin shook his head, dumbfounded. This was a surprise he had not expected. Tina’s face wore an expression of slight embarrassment and also concern.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re ok,” Tina said. “Ya know, like if ya needed anythin’ or somethin’.” Her voice had a slight southern twang, and Melvin recalled that she was from Mississippi and quite the southern belle.

Melvin couldn’t help but notice that her nipples were hard and protruding from underneath her pink tank top. Tina’s breasts were something that any man would have trouble not noticing; they were large and firm and jiggled whenever she moved. Apparently, this was a trait of the females of Abigail’s family.

“No, Tina. I’m ok, thanks,” Melvin said. Instead of leaving, Tina moved forward and placed a hand into his hair, running her fingers through it. Melvin flinched a little but didn’t stop her.

“Ya sure I can’t do anythin’ for ya? Tell me now because we don’t have much time,” she whispered in her girlish voice. Melvin should have told her to leave, to go away and go back to her aunt, but he didn’t. Maybe he knew that the best revenge he could get on Abby was to have sex with someone younger, hotter, and smarter than her. Not only that but Abby felt this girl was her protégé. Or maybe it was just Tina’s formfitting white shorts and the way they hugged the skin of her thighs and showed off her perfectly round butt.

“You’re going to get caught in here,” the logical portion of Melvin’s mind said out loud. Tina’s pink lips split open in a wide smile, and she shook her head.

“No, I got our waitress to lock the door. I told her she could watch,” Tina replied and pushed the stall door open farther. Sitting on the bathroom counter with a look of anxious anticipation sat the waitress with the brown pigtails. The waitress shrugged, her hands outstretched as if to say, “I like to watch. What can I say?”

“Well, my head does kind of hurt. I’m not sure you can help that though,” Melvin said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It was a true statement; a lingering headache throbbed behind his eyes. Tina continued to stroke his hair. She stepped forward, her legs now straddling him. Her thighs were deliciously tanned, and Melvin could see a bit of pale white skin from where her shorts had pulled up her legs. Melvin was now close enough to Tina’s white shorts to see her pink thong through them.

“Want me to kiss it, Uncle Melvin?” she offered. She licked her lips, her tongue poking through, spreading a trail of moist saliva along her mouth. She looked hungry and more than a little horny.

“You don’t have to call me uncle. Technically, I’m not you’re uncle anymore,” Melvin said. His eyes were parallel to Tina’s perky breasts, and he was having trouble keeping eye contact with her. His eyes kept wanting to dart down and examine the pink fabric of the tank top straining against Tina’s mouthwatering mounds.

“Well, can I pretty please call ya uncle anyway?” Tina said, pulling the pencil out of her hair. Her blonde curls unspooled to her shoulders, bobbing cutely, and she shook her head, her hair twirling from side to side. She was gorgeous, no doubt about it. This kid had broken so many hearts in high school you couldn’t count them all, and she was represented everything Abigail thought she saw in herself. Melvin felt the crotch of his pants tightening around him.

“Sure,” Melvin said, the word coming out like a croak from his dry throat. Tina held him captivated with her dark blue eyes and bent over to kiss his forehead, strategically rubbing her tits in Melvin’s face. Hot desire breathed fire into Melvin’s stomach, but he still didn’t feel right taking advantage of this bright young woman in the men’s bathroom. He had baby-sat this girl for Christ’s sake.

“Tina, you don’t have to do this,” Melvin said, pushing her just far enough away that his face wasn’t being crushed by her boobs. He wanted to give her one last chance to back out if she wanted if only to put his own conscience at ease. His hands were on her tummy, and he was surprised at how hard her abs felt. Tina looked down at him with her dark blue eyes and giggled like a schoolgirl.

“Uncle Melvin, I’m a freshman in college now. Suckin’ and fuckin’ is kinda what I do,” she said and sat her firm ass on Melvin’s thighs, looking him straight in the eyes. She squirmed a little, enjoying the hardness that crept down one side of Melvin’s leg. A quiet moan passed through his lips.

“Let me show you,” she said, wrapped her hands around his head and pulled Melvin’s mouth to hers.

***

“You look like you’ve been working out,” Abigail said, stabbing at a tomato with her fork. The tomato rolled away, unscathed. Abby had left her salad untouched since Tina scurried off, saying that her roommate was paging her cell phone with their numeric code for an emergency. Abby hadn’t heard the phone go off, but it was probably on vibration anyway. Ah, the wonders of vibrating phones. Abby sometimes loved to put her cell phone on vibrate and slip it up her skirt, waiting for someone to call. Unfortunately, she wasn’t wearing a skirt today and would have to find other forms of entertainment.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I guess I go to the gym... uh... occasionally?” Richie said, his mind floating on a cloud of near drunkenness. He’d downed three beers, and how he wished he could go all the way and drink three more. He wasn’t sure how much more of Abby he could take. Sure, she was one hot number, but he knew from Melvin’s stories what a man-eater she could be. And she was annoying as hell to boot. This didn’t keep Richie from catching himself staring at the hard nipples protruding from underneath her sweater.

Richie felt something worm its way between his legs and settle around his crotch. He wondered if the booze was hitting him harder than he realized, but when he glanced down he saw Abigail’s bare foot scooting up along his thighs. He shot a shocked expression across the table towards her.