Melvin's Magic Love Juice Ch. 09

Joey threw Abigail against the opposite brick wall with more force than Melvin thought necessary. Abigail groaned and slumped to her knees, her dark hair hanging in clumps over her face. She held one hand over her stomach and the other over the back of her head. Melvin couldn’t help but feel sorry about her.

“Listen, boys. I don’t care what you do to this bitch, just don’t do anything that’s gonna come back and bite me in the ass. My boyfriend owns this place, and he doesn’t like heat, if you catch my drift,” the blonde waitress said, exchanging knowing glances with Joey. Joey nodded.

“Ok, I gotta get back to work. I am gonna send some guys out here to make sure nothing too illegal goes down. Deal?” the blonde said.

“Deal,” Joey replied. Melvin said nothing but merely kept his eyes on Abigail. She clutched her stomach and struggled to catch her breath in jagged heaves. Curled up on the cement, Abby apparently didn’t care that she was wallowing in wet filth next to the dumpsters. One side of her face was smeared with something black... oil or something. Melvin couldn’t tell what.

The blonde bartender disappeared back into the club and was replaced by two large men who would have fit nicely as the villains in the same action movie that Joey Dangerfield could star. They were both big and black, and it took Melvin a moment to realize that they looked similar enough to be brothers and probably were.

“What’s the fuckin’ story here?” the taller one asked. His lips spread in a disgusted snarl over a set of perfect, straight and white teeth as he took in the form of Abigail on her knees, sobbing.

“This lady here cheated on her husband, divorced him and then thought she could get him back, and when things didn’t go her way, she thought she’d take him off the market for everybody,” Joey said. He rummaged in her purse and pulled out Abigail’s gun.

“That’s some ice cold shit,” the shorter (yet still very tall) man said.

“I didn’t... I wasn’t,” Abigail gasped. “Melvin, I’m so... sorry. I... don’t know... what I was... thinking.”

Joey examined the gun and turned it over in his hands for a moment, and a look of realization blossomed across his face. Suddenly, he burst out laughing. He closed his eyes, and hot tears streamed down his face as his guffaws grew louder and uncontrollable. Melvin thought of the Joker from his old Batman comics, the issue where the Joker used this laughing gas that would make people laugh themselves to death. The expression Joey wore was eerily similar to the victims of Joker’s laughing gas, and Melvin felt a weird chill scurry up his spine.

Melvin and the two musclebound bouncers exchanged strange glances. Joey clutched his stomach, his chest heaving in laughter. He attempted to slow it down and explain himself.

“Oh, shit!” he finally said as he managed to gain some control. “Someone ripped you off good, baby. This is a fucking TOY!”

Abigail groaned, and her head sunk to the wet ground. Some of her hair dipped into a greasy puddle, but she didn’t seem to notice. She should have known better than to trust that stupid gun and ammo dealer; she was supposed to be able to read men like open books. Yet another failure. And what could she do about it? Tell the police that she’d tried to buy a gun illegally and had gotten duped? Not likely.

“So what you gonna do with this bitch?” the taller man said, rubbing his hands together like a starving child preparing to dig into a surf and turf dinner. The only thing he was missing was a bib with a big red lobster print.

Joey shrugged and tossed the toy gun into the dumpster. It fell into the bin with a dull clang along with the rest of the garbage. His face grew contemplative.

Melvin only watched. The situation was in Joey’s hands; Melvin wanted no part of it. He had no desire for revenge on the hapless, sobbing woman in front of him. He just wanted to be done with her. The only thing he felt now was pity.

“What we need to do is humiliate her. Make her remember that my buddy, Melvin here, was, is and always will be too good for the likes of her. We need to make her feel the same way Melvin felt when she ditched him for some kid,” Joey said, a twisted smile forming on his lips. Melvin’s raised his eyebrows.

“Bridget told me the whole story. Told me what a fucking bitch your ex wife was, and here she came tonight with a fake gun to prove it.” Dangerfield turned to Abigail who looked at him like a scolded child through the stringy clumps of hair matted to her face. “Only you didn’t know it was fake, did you? Stupid cunt,” Joey said.

Melvin didn’t like the steely, cold tone of voice Joey used with her. It sounded somehow... dangerous.

“I know what’ll we should do. To put this cunt in her place,” the shorter large man said from his position in the shadows. All Melvin could make out of his face was two glowing eyes and a set of pearly white teeth spread in a wide grin.

“What’s that?” the taller man asked.

The shorter large man explained what he had in mind, and when he finished, their silence hung thick in the air.

***

Abigail felt strong hands grab her armpits and lift her up to her knees. She felt drugged, the world a cloudy dream, and made no effort to struggle against the man. She glanced up and saw one of the large black men unbuckling his pants, unzipping his fly and fishing out an enormous erection. It was only inches from her face.

The world and its reality started to come back to her, all too quickly. What were they going to do to her? She moved her tear-streaked eyes and saw that the other black man, the one who had pulled her up, and Melvin’s friend were doing the same, reaching into their pants and slipping out hard cocks. They stood stiff in the cool night air. She turned to look at her ex husband. Melvin only watched on with a dull expression.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she heard Melvin say. His friend, Joey, snorted in reply.

“After everything she’s done to you, man? You’ve gotta at least watch,” he said, pulling on his hard, meaty pole. It strained anxiously in his hand like an animal happy to be out of its cage. Abigail felt a shiver of repulsion, one mixed with an odd feeling of fascinated anticipation, rush through her stomach. Unexpected yet delicious tingles tickled her nerves.

The three men began to stroke themselves over her, their hands wrapping and working frantically at their fleshy tools, and sick realization flushed Abigail’s cheeks. She’d seen tapes of this; her present husband kept some hidden in a shoe box in the closet. It was called what? Bukkake? She’d destroyed them all, naturally, but only after viewing the videos with only the company of her vibrator.

“No,” Abigail breathed and tried to scramble to her feet. One of the large men pushed her back down, and Abigail gritted her teeth as her knees banged against the unforgiving ground. She made no further attempt to struggle.

“Stay down,” the man hissed at her. Abigail shuddered. She knew that she should be appalled at what was happening to her, but she found that she wasn’t. Never had a man held any sort of authority over her, never had she been ordered down or dominated, and she discovered that some recess of her mind liked it. Now not one but three men had her on her knees, seemingly against her will, and they were going to relieve their cum-filled sacks on her untarnished, beautiful face.

Melvin watched on with sad eyes, but there was no mistaking the growing bulge in his pants. She could tell that he was turned on besides himself at what he saw. She shot him a pitiful look and turned to the men standing next to her. Abigail looked on at the three cocks being jerked off in her face and had to repress an urge to take one in her mouth. Is that what they wanted? To treat her like a slut and know she liked it?

She didn’t even realize that she had slipped a hand down her jeans until one of the two unnamed men grunted, “Fuck, look at this slut!” Abigail followed his gaze to the hand that was toying with herself. She couldn’t help herself. Flutters of lust trembled her lower extremities.

Then a huge black cock pressed against her lips, and Abigail allowed it to slip into her mouth. A man above her groaned in pleasure, and she wrapped her other hand around one of the other cocks and stroked it delicately. She closed her eyes and let the feeling of her hand in her jeans, fingering her clit and pressing a prying finger into the lips of her vagina, wash over her.

After a moment, curiosity getting the better of her, she peeked one eye open to see what effect all of this was having on Melvin. He leaned against the wall of the club, watching and doing nothing. Didn’t seeing Abby on her knees, taking a cock in her mouth, jerking off another while a third man stroked his meat in her face turn Melvin on?

She knew it did; the tent of his pants was proof enough. But Melvin wasn’t doing anything about it. She knew the reason why. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that she could still make him want her. Bastard.

Fuck him, Abigail thought. Why settle for one cock when you can have three? But the thought didn’t ease the pain of knowing she couldn’t have Melvin. She still loved him. But why? Why love a man who would let this happen to her and feel nothing but indifference?

Then the cock in her mouth was gone and was replaced by another a moment later. Joey Dangerfield moaned as he pushed his erection down her throat, and Abigail had to keep herself from choking. He pushed further, his cock touching the back of her throat, and she couldn’t help it. She coughed him out with a slobbery gag.

“Fuck!” one of the large men cried, the one she was jerking off with her hand, and his cock began to spasm in her grip. Abigail’s other hand began to work more furiously in her jeans, tickling her clit with her thumb, pumping three fingers into her pussy, and Abigail had never felt more closer to orgasm than she did as the first splatter of jism splashed against her cheek. Her own moisture was seeping through her fingers and drenching her expensive underwear with her juices.

The amount of cum the man spent was impressive. A white jet spurted into her black hair and clung like a wad of rubbery snot, and another drizzled across her nose and ran to her upper lip. She pressed her lips together, not wanting to lick any of it up... yet. Her forehead felt sticky and plastered with the stuff.

Abigail didn’t care, lost in her own world of pleasure. Is this what she had always wanted? After all the years of owning men and breaking them down, using her feminine wiles to bring them to her knees and crush their manhood... would this act of humiliation bring her to the climax she didn’t believe was possible?

Just when she thought the onslaught from the first man was over, his balls emptied onto her exquisite features, the other large man’s cock shot an unexpected load nearly into her left eye. Abigail blinked and forced her eye shut, feeling the slimy goo spill over her eyelid and stick to her lashes. The force of the second man’s climax was even more powerful than the first. She felt showered in cum; it ran over her chin and slid down her neck in creamy, white rivers.

Her fingers worked maniacally in her jeans, and she felt her body tense, a firecracker whose fuse had been suddenly lit. Shivers raced up and down her spine. Her entire body began to tremble. Behind her closed eyelids, her eyes crusted shut, Abigail began to see multicolored explosions.

“Shit, the cunt’s gonna cum,” the first large man said in clear surprise.

Abigail cried out in her glorious orgasm, her voice loud and passionate, and Joey Dangerfield filled her open mouth with a load of hot cum as his cock spurted over her. She didn’t seem to mind, focused on the incredible feeling that soared through her, making every individual part of her body scream in unified pleasure. Her face was a mask of streaky, white ooze. Her hair stuck to her face in stringy patches.

Joey jacked himself to a few last dribbles and sighed in relieved satisfaction. Abigail Sanderson sunk to the ground, her lungs heaving, gasping for air. Her white shirt clung wetly to her skin, her breasts visible under the material.

“Bitch so hot, gotta cool her off,” the second large man said. He picked up a bucket sitting by the back door, one full of dirty rain water. The bucket sloshed as he carried it towards her.

Abigail looked up just in time to see the man dump the bucket over her, the freezing water splashing over her face and hair. She didn’t have the energy to get up or move out of the way. She merely lay on the cement and let it happen. She felt drained, emotionally and physically empty, nothing left but the oncoming realization of what she’d done. She sobbed once, pathetically, holding herself with her arms and shivering.

Melvin shook his head, opened the back door to the club and left her there.

***

“Hey!” Bridget Briswell said when she saw Melvin reclaim his position at the bar, Joey only a step behind. Her face brightened with a wide smile. “Guess who wants us to come backstage!”

The blonde bartender appeared and handed Melvin a shot of something hard without asking, and Melvin nodded at her and downed it with a thrust of his head. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it burned nicely going down.

“Who?” Melvin said to Bridget, trying to not make too much of a face from the liquor. He already knew the answer, but why ruin the surprise? He placed the empty shot glass on the counter.

“Hey, old buddy,” said a familiar scratchy voice, and the purple haired pizza girl a.k.a. punk chick stepped from behind Bridget. She wore a torn purple dress with long purple boots and purple stockings, and Melvin thought she looked like a totally hot female Grimace, the big purple guy from MacDonald’s kid meals.

“Stage name’s Violet. Kinda sticking with the theme,” she said, explaining the amount of purple she wore, matching her hair.

“You guys rock!” Courtney said enthusiastically, standing next to Bridget. Melvin couldn’t help but notice the way Bridget had her arm wrapped around Courtney’s waist. He hadn’t been gone too long, had he?

“Thanks,” Violet replied with a wink. “You guys want to meet the band?”

“Can we?” Courtney said, looking like a little girl who just unwrapped a brand new Barbie dollhouse under her Christmas tree. Violet gave Melvin a sly look and smiled impishly. Then she turned back to Courtney.

“Come on, bring all your friends,” she said and pulled Courtney forward by the wrist. Courtney flashed Melvin a large smile as she passed and grabbed his wrist, pulling him with them.

“Rock n’ roll,” Melvin said with a low groan.

“You mean PUNK rock n’ roll,” Bridget said brightly, closing in behind him.

“Whatever,” Melvin said, wondering what would happen to him next.

***

Somehow the entire group managed to find their way backstage: Melvin, Courtney, Bridget, Joey, Brenda, Richie, Tasha, Tina, and Shelly. As they maneuvered through the crowd to the back, they kept picking each one up like a line of marching ants. Tina and Shelly were the two last, and they were found making out in a dark corner next to the stage, breathlessly groping each other through their clothes, much to Melvin’s disdain. But it wasn’t like Tina was his actual flesh and blood relative, and he figured he’d get over it.

The dressing room for the band was fairly large and comfortable with a few couches for sitting and tables covered in finger foods and drinks. Violet hopped on a counter in front of some mirrors, crossed her long legs and began introductions.

“This is Crow, our drummer,” she said and pointed to a thin man with long black hair and skin covered in tattoos. “And Red, lead guitar, and Hammer on bass.”

Red was another female whose clothes matched her name, only she seemed to be covered in some form of low hanging drapes. She was stick thin, her hair shoulder length and dyed dark red. Hammer, on the other hand, was man of muscles on top of muscles, and Melvin couldn’t find any semblance of a neck between his head and shoulders. The girls didn’t seem to mind.

“Ooo, I like Hammer the best,” Shelly whispered, and Tasha and Tina giggled. Even Brenda snickered at the joke, and Melvin could tell from her admiring expression that she liked Hammer the best as well. Richie, her official date for the evening, frowned as he also noticed her expression.

“Something to drink? Something to smoke? Something to inhale or inject?” Crow asked as he walked over, a joint held between his long fingers.

“THAT’S my boy!” Brenda exclaimed and met him halfway, taking the joint and inhaling deeply. Richie stumbled after her, but Crow already had an spindly arm around Brenda’s shoulders and pulled the joint of out her grasp.

“Shit, girl. Save some for the rest of us,” he said in a whispery voice.

Their hands over their mouths, whispering and giggling, Tasha, Tina, and Shelly walked over towards Hammer, the bassist looking like he had died and gone to heaven. Melvin couldn’t read minds, but he knew exactly what was going on in Hammer’s at that instant, the way his eyes lit up seeing three nubile young hotties headed in his direction. The only thing Melvin couldn’t know for sure was the specific positions Hammer had in mind.

“So have any pizza parties lately?” Violet asked, tapping Melvin on the shoulder with a slender finger, the nail painted (naturally) purple. She had a crooked smile on her face, the stud in her nose gleaming in the lights surrounding the mirror.

“Pizza party?” Courtney asked, confused. Melvin gulped. This was exactly where he didn’t want the conversation headed. He knew it had been a mistake to be swooped backstage with Violet and the rest of the girls he’d fucked in the last week: Tasha, Tina, and Bridget... and one voyeur, Shelly, who had watched him fuck Tina. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

“It’s nothing,” Melvin said, a little too quickly. Violet smoothed her frayed skirt, slid off the counter and took Courtney by the wrists, a wry smile on the purple haired woman’s lips. A sick feeling invaded the pit of Melvin’s stomach, but what could he do? Violet flashed Melvin a wicked look and winked before turning back to Courtney.

“Here, let me show you,” she said and led Courtney to one of the couches. Violet sat Courtney down and pulled at the bun holding up Courtney’s hair. Auburn hair unspooled around Courtney’s shoulders, and Melvin felt a pang of lust heat his face. She was so gorgeous. Violet ran a hand through Courtney’s silky hair and licked her lips with a long tongue. Courtney’s eyes were wide, her expression like a deer’s caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi.

Melvin started towards the two of them, opening his mouth to order Violet to stop, to take her hands off Courtney, but Joey Dangerfield’s hand pressed against his chest, stopping him.

“See what happens,” Joey said in a distracted way, unable to take his eyes off Violet and Courtney. Melvin gulped, his throat feeling dry, but he allowed Joey to hold him back. Bridget Briswell was at Joey’s side, her gleaming blue eyes also glued to the two women, her hands unconsciously rubbing Joey’s muscular chest.

“First, you want to see how the pizza tastes, right? So you gots to give it a nice big lick,” Violet said, spreading Courtney’s legs. Violet knelt between her milky thighs, separating Courtney’s knees by pushing them open with her hands. Violet slid Courtney’s checkered shirt up her creamy legs. Violet’s tongue flickered out of her mouth. For a moment, Courtney looked like a frightened puppy, her cheeks reddening, her eyes bulging in their sockets.

“I don’t... ooh,” she said in a trembling voice, shivering as Violet’s tongue tickled up her inner thigh. Melvin gasped. This was happening too fast. Why wasn’t Courtney stopping her? His mind raced, his heart thumping in his chest, his cock hardening in his pants as he watched his secret crush’s thighs licked by the pizza girl he’d fucked only days ago. He didn’t want to see Courtney deflowered this way, and yet, he did at the same time.