Post 235: Papers in the Park, p2

“I’m so, so sorry I’m such a mess,” said Melissa Monroe, new Office Manager at what was once Far Horizons Medical Associates and a small geriatric practice on the edge of the city, “I was at the gym this morning, then I had this cooking to do…” She was apologizing for her appearance to her employer, here at the park. They were there together this Saturday for lunch and some paperwork and though she felt unprepared - makeup, outfit - in reality she was at the moment the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on in his life, ever. “I didn’t sleep well last night,” she explained, as she took him by the hand and led him from the thicket of red bushes in front of which they’d just snapped some photos and back to their picnic spot. “And my hair…yikes!” She was taller than him by more than a foot.

Melissa had seen him stealing glances at her chest, which she had to admit looked extra huge today in the tight t-shirt she’d worn, and she’d given him ample chances already to get a good look. But now, maybe a bit uncharacteristically, she was feeling a pang of modesty around him and pulled her soft, fleece jacket back up over her shoulders as she brought him to the blanket she’d laid out for them just fifteen minutes before. It’s not that she was cold, or haha shy…she just knew this wasn’t the time to get him too worked-up. Or distracted…they had stuff to do.

“Here come sit with me,” Melissa said warmly, directing him to sit down on the ground, amidst the food she’d laid out, under the grey October sky, and next to the so-far unacknowledged yellow envelope holding the papers which would finalize his divorce. She watched patiently as he sat, and then with a smile lowered herself back down alongside him. Her body was already responding to his presence; her pulse had quickened and a gentle swelling was slowly warming her chest. Her skin had that prickly excitement, her eyes sparkled and her thick thighs had started to twitch. It seemed so silly now, how they’d kept their distance from one another all week. Having him close to her felt good, it felt right, it felt naturally like where he should be. Was he feeling the same thing? she wondered.

Again she apologized for her appearance, and again she mentioned that she didn’t sleep well. Fact is, she hadn’t slept at all. This she didn’t tell him, but from the party last night, after an evening of bonding with her girls, friends new and old, she had gone directly to the gym for a late night/early morning session of lifting outrageous amounts of weights, more than ever. She’d felt possessed, like she needed to ready herself for him today, get stronger for him. Jesus, how strong does he need me? she’d marveled, as she loaded more and more plates onto the squat rack in the basically empty gym. She was glad she was alone, finding herself a bit self-conscious of how much she was lifting (and the noises she was making haha). This isn’t something humans should be able to do, she remembered thinking, as the bar flexed on her shoulders and she easily did rep upon rep of what was just a week ago her max weight. Nonetheless, she lifted and lifted and lifted, 3 AM, becoming stronger and stronger and stronger.

She brought herself back to the present.

Caffeine! That’s what she needed! “Sleep is for the weak haha,” she found herself saying, turning a bit, fetching twin mugs. She’d filled two thermoses, coffee for her. The other?

“I made you some warm milk,” she bid, already pouring him a cup, “I thought you’d like some, help to warm you up?”

Warm milk??? he thought, taking the gently steaming mug from her, aghast but already offering his thanks. That she didn’t even think to proffer some coffee was a bit disconcerting, but with his first sip he did have to admit it tasted nice, and the thought of the bitter coffee soured his stomach a bit. Maybe it was the whiskey of last night, still. He took another sip, smiling at her as she watched him with her own, slightly strange smile.

“Well, so…Papers, right?” he advanced, after a few minutes of pleasant chat. They had lain aside him, as if unrecognized and anonymous, this whole time on the blanket, pen atop them, Sheryl’s unmistakable handwriting on the envelope. Melissa had visibly been working to ignore them, not push them too quickly or too soon, but even he could see how eager she was to get them done. He knew that, in the end, they were the main purpose of this little luncheon and, hey…he thought, there’s no way I’m getting out of this. Might as well get it over with.

Without saying much, Melissa presented the papers to him, looked on as he signed them, sitting cross-legged on the blanket. Though controlling herself, not making what she knew must be a difficult task even harder by saying the wrong thing or being insensitive, she was more excited than she could ever remember. In her bones she was squirming, and as his pen touched the paper - “there,” she instructed, pointing to one of several signature lines Sheryl had instructed he complete, “and there…” - she felt herself warming, wetting between her thighs. It was like, with every stroke of the pen, he was becoming smaller and more adorable right in front of her eyes. Each signature was him signing away another piece of his old life, with its protections and obstacles, its freedoms and independence, and stepping into his new one. Nnnnnngh, she silently groaned, as she fantasized about, soon, just how much he was going to need her. He’s got a new life, and goddamnit I want to make sure it’s going to be with me.

As he moved onto the last page, signed his name for the final time and handed Melissa the pen, he did his best to smile. “We’ll, that’s that,” he said with effort and conscious aplomb, as he felt the cold around him more than ever. Though he put on a brave face the world seemed suddenly bigger, scarier. Having Sheryl there over the years, for all the problems between them, had been a comfort; she’d done so much for him, financially and otherwise. Taken care of shit, honestly. Who would do that now? Him? The idea was daunting, especially with everything going on in the practice, with his health, and in the world in general. Anxiety-provoking stuff. Melissa’s smile, though, as she watched him, was a welcome warmth, a sanctuary. He knew she must realize this moment, with the terms to which he’d just agreed in the divorce papers, was both humiliating and emasculating. But she was there, with just the right smile, just the right eyes. She was a more simple girl than Sheryl, offered more simple pleasures. He breathed in deep - her perfume gently in the air around them - and felt more than anything a huge sense of relief. There we go, he mused, I’m divorced.

She saw it, though, of course, in his face - the sheepishness, the indignity. He’s trying to be brave, the poor thing, she knew, he wants to look strong for me, show me that this doesn’t bother him, but I know he feels really embarrassed inside. She smiled, and tolerated his silly little show of resolve. Inwardly, though, she was having her own struggles. She was fighting against the naughty thoughts that, right away, wanted to explore these feelings with him. Part of her, a dark little voice, was telling her how thrilling it would be to twist the knife a little. She could get him to admit his new shame, confess his feelings, acknowledge how a woman had just reduced him to a pathetic little nothing. The idea of it covertly lit dark fires in her, stoked this deep, feminist pride that had grown and grown as of late. But she knew she needed to cool it, she needed to quell the flickers before they flamed. Today, she had to stay gentle with him, be there for him. A friend, and maybe…just maybe…a bit more.

So still, with effort, Melissa did her best in appearing casual, taking the papers from him, filing them dutifully back into their envelope, and slipping them out of sight into her bag. As she felt him watching her, sipping again at his warm milk, she began to realize something new had clicked in her mind, and maybe a bit deeper. She turned back to him and their eyes found one another. She felt a new, greater sense of affection towards him than ever, a deeper connection. In the brief moment in which their gazes met, fresh possibilities were opening up,

“I…I made you lunch,” she said, a bit overcome, casting her eyes now down, over the spread on the blanket, “Do you like it?”

He smiled, appreciatively, knowing she had just purposefully changed the topic away from the uncomfortable reality of his new status as a divorcée. This was a lot for him to handle, and he knew she realized it. “Oh yeah,” he extolled, admiring the assembled foods, “looks like you pack a mean picnic basket.” Fruits, some sweet pastries, a cooler off to the side. Feeling a bit awkward - she’d obviously put so much effort into this - he didn’t quite know what to say. “Did your mom used to bring you on picnics?” he managed.

”No…” Melissa chuckled, fussing a bit nervously with a wrinkle in the blanket, “my mom wasn’t, isn’t really…one for picnics.” Ugh. So weird. She shook it off, roundabout. “How about you?”

It was his turn, usually now, to be evasive…but though he normally avoided the topic of his childhood with, well, everyone really, he was feeling a bit more carelessly candid than usual. He felt he could confide a bit in her. Fuck it, he figured, I’m divorced now, right? ”My mom passed when I was really young,” he began, “I never really, like-“

“Oh I’m sorry!” Melissa exclaimed, voice suddenly laden with concern, “I didn’t realize..!” Why had she not been told this??

“It’s…it’s okay,” he said, feeling promptly awkward with her distress, “I…I hardly remember anything, very little about her.” It was true: the memories he had of his mother - a big, beautiful woman over his crib, dark of hair - were like fleeting images, forgotten dreams.

“How old were you when she…?”

“When she died?” he continued, matter-of-factly, ”Only a couple years old, I think…”

“Oh my god,” Melissa sighed, frowning in deeply-felt sympathy, “so little…” She was suddenly beginning to see him - Dr J, her employer, this man whom she’d idolized - in a new light.

“Yeah my dad couldn’t handle it I guess, left me to be raised by her parents…my, uh, grandparents,” he continued, “then I was off to an uncle when they passed, soon after.”

Poor thing, she contemplated silently, feeling honestly so bad for him, He never really had a mom in his life. As weird as growing up was for me I can’t imagine what that must have been like for him. She felt something new swelling in her chest, joining and adding to the affection she felt for him. Has he ever…?

“And then there was Sheryl?” she asked, in a little leap she found herself making. Her voice had picked up a hint of her growing excitement. “Not really a mother-figure, huh?” Never anyone to…nnngh…nurture him…

“Y-y-yeah…” he stammered, thrown off by the question and immediately aware of the weight and mass of Melissa’s big breasts, her thick hips and thighs, all softly and solidly filling the space between them which had, as they spoke, become gradually more intimate, warmed by her body. While he was sitting cross-legged, she was on her hip; still she sat taller than he, the bigger partner by far to anyone walking by. Both could feel that. “She, uh…”

“Well, then, I’m going to give you the full picnic experience today,” Melissa suddenly declared, brightly, as she sat up decidedly straight, tossing her own long, dark hair behind her shoulder and stopping him and herself as she knew…nnngh…this could quickly get to be too much.  She needed to lighten the mood again, or they might start saying things they shouldn’t….yet, here. “You ready?”

“S-s-sure…” he stammered, his jaw shaking a bit. Jeez, this breeze is chilly.

“Are you cold?” she asked, feeling honest regard for his comfort.

“No, uh, not too bad…” he answered.

“You need something warm to eat,” Melissa decided, turning now to her left, her right arm reaching for the cooler of heated food she’d brought. The motion rolled her hips towards him, pivoting her big bottom into his vision, stretching at her patterned, form-fitting tights. Her jacket fell just up above it around her waist as she fussed with removing the cover of the cooler, leaving her on full, rondurous display. She felt his eyes plastered on her gym-giant ass as she looked for the dish of puff pastries she’d cooked, and swiveled her wide hips just a bit more. She spent a few moments longer than needed like this, allowing him to look at her and appreciate just how big she was before she began to replace the cover of the cooler and turn back to him, with a smile. He had of course looked away, but then met her eyes again, timidly. Omigod…she mused, he is too cute.

“Let’s start with this,” Melissa announced, peeling off foil and producing a plateful of small, golden brown something-or-others and offering it to him for inspection. “Ta-dah!”

“Oh, uh, wow..!” he extolled, beginning immediately to reach for it, pick one from the bunch. When he got close, though, Melisa pulled it back.

“Ah ah ah!” she tutted with a mischievous smile, wagging her finger teasingly before once again approaching with it. “I saw it. Last night you liked being fed by the ladies. Now it’s my turn.” With her free left hand she plucked one of the pastries from the dish and held it up towards him. “Say ‘ah’...”

He blushed as, in a flash, he remembered another humiliating moment from the party last night, being fork-fed by his staff. He of course realized Melissa’s intent, then, here and - after barely a thought- shyly opened for her. Smiling in contentment, Melissa popped the morsel into his waiting mouth. He closed over it.

“How is it?” she asked as she watched him munch, adoringly drinking in his idiosyncrasies as his jaw worked up and down.

“Mmm…mmhmmm..” A bit greasy…

“It’s too salty, isn’t it?”

“Mnn…” His mouth was too full to answer, mercifully.

“Kinda chewy?”

“Wwmm…mmhm...”

“Did I burn the crust?” She sounded honestly worried.

“Uuhmm…” At least it’s, um, tasteless.

“No good, huh?”

“No, it’s uh…” It’s terrible.

“I’m a horrible cook…” she apologized, as she watched him swallow, mortified but adding with all seriousness and a bit cryptically: “but I can get better for you.” She was breathing deeply, and privately - it seemed - resolving herself. “Want another?”

“N-not just yet…” he replied, and reached for his mug of still-warm milk. He held it close, towards his chest, appreciating the heat rising from it.

Melissa, for herself, was watching him and beginning to fall to urges that had been building for a while, today. Protective urges. If she couldn’t feed him the way she wanted, maybe she could do something else. “Look, you’re still shivering,” she said, as she put down the plate and moved towards him, putting her left hand behind his right shoulder. “Here, come closer…” she continued, scooting closer still and firmly hugging herself to his side, her breasts surrounding his right arm, “Maybe I’m a bad cook but I’m good at this. I’ll warm you up.”

Oh god, he shuddered, feeling her softness suddenly come over him. His first reaction was to fight, try to pull back from her plushness. But, unlike in the past where his conflicting loyalties would have made this moment wrong, he now - tentatively - allowed himself to enjoy the sensation. Melissa was so big, so soft and warm. His eyes fluttered and he fought to keep from groaning.

“You just need some body heat,” she continued, pleased at his reaction, encouraged by how she’d felt him actually relax, rather than tense up like she’s expected. “Here, let me wrap my jacket around you,” she offered as - best she could - pulled the edges of her oversized fleece around him. She couldn’t quite zip him in with her - haha that would be nice! - but still it would help. “There we go…” she purred.

“Th-thanks,” he muttered, even more overcome, now. He was amazed, overwhelmed by her body, how much of it there was, what it could provide. His own body had begun to react to her, both cowed and aroused.

She looked down at him, all wrapped up in her, and giggled. “Nice, right?” she asked, as she pulled the jacket tighter around him. She felt better, now, more confident, and having him against her was just so nice. He was small, against her bigger body, his torso thin in her warming hug. She squeezed at his right shoulder, feasting in how weak it felt. These were strange feelings, thoughts, ones that not too long ago would have surprised her. She was getting excited by this? His smallness? But, god…it seemed so right. And that soon - next week? Next month? Years from now? - it might be different still? He was becoming perfect.

He could feel her heart was starting to beat more strongly, he could feel it through his shoulder. Rather than push away, as he normally would, he allowed himself to settle, to let her hold him. No one was here, no one was watching. It was just them.

Melissa spoke up, after a bit. “So…now that papers are signed, how do you feel?” she asked, taking her left hand to smooth out his hair, tenderly. Her right arm remained embraced around him.

“W-what do you mean?” he asked, not really knowing where to look. His eyes were just about at the level of her long throat. So, he looked at her neck, admiring its strong tendons, her perfect skin. Also, she really smelled good, and he could feel her looking down at him as she played with his hair.

“I mean…” she continued, still petting his head, “do you feel…better? Like you can be here, with me, like this…and not feel…”

Guilty? Like a cheating husband? He took a moment to reflect, thoughtfully. “Yeah I guess I do feel better,” he answered, aware almost unconsciously of barriers, walls that were once there and keeping him from feeling anything honest, having fallen. Or, at least, currently crumbling. “I feel…more free?”

Melissa could not have hoped for anything more encouraging; her heart picked up another notch and her voice became even more bright. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so happy for u-...for you,” she said, stopping herself from saying too much, from taking a step too quickly. She thought, herself, what she could say, to make him feel even better still…and maybe bring him closer to the fold. “Now you can really be a part of the group,” she added, squeezing his thin shoulder again, tenderly.

“The group?” he asked, a bit confused, but starting to see the picture.

“The girls, she clarified, “They all love you. They all want the best for you, and were really looking forward to you being brave, like you were today, doing this.” She bit her lower lip, imagining something. “And now you’re free, you can hang out with us! You can be part of the group!”

”Y-yeah…” he replied, now a bit tentative himself. He began to picture some of the other girls - Josie, Lakshmi this morning. Vida last night.

“We want to make sure you don’t get lonely,” she continued, feeling his pulse start to quicken. What was happening? Was he becoming a little frightened? Awww…was he nervous?

He, at this point, was remembering being forced drunk, taken in between Marisela’s tits. He remembers being squashed against Morgan’s breast. He’d lost track of the times where, over the past two months, he’d been taken advantage of by “the girls”. He tried, though, best he could, to reimagine these episodes, put them in a new light. I have been anything but lonely, he mused. “T-the girls are all really n-nice,” he began, “really s-supportive of me during this, uh, tough time.”

There he goes, being brave again, she marveled. Though she looked up, away, down the hillock at a couple walking by (what must they be thinking? seeing us here like this? she daydreamed to herself, can they even see him wrapped up in here?) she spoke again with a knowing eye. ”Supportive, huh?” she chuckled, her laugh an unspoken acknowledgment: she knew what he was thinking, “I’ve heard how ‘supportive’ they’ve been recently haha…”

“haha…” he laughed, trying to find the humor - or at least sound like he was trying, “yeah, they, um…they’ve been trying to keep my mind off things.”

She laughed again, sending jiggles through her big breasts, around his upper right arm. “Now I might start getting jealous!” she quipped, but then grew suddenly quiet.

”h-haha…” he laughed, but was thinking oh my god what did she mean by that? His heart skipped a beat. There were things he’d begun to feel, sitting here in this girl’s embrace, that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Melissa sensed it herself, that she’d said something. Rather than backpedal, she stepped forward. ”Seriously…” she began, uncharacteristically a bit nervous, now, “can we have more times like this? Just you and me?”

His breath caught, and he found himself answering without thinking. ”I’d l-like that,” he said.

Another wall down was the thought that ran through her head, as butterflies began to dance in her stomach. She looked down at him, and found him looking up at her. She felt better, braver than she had in a long time, and decided to go for broke. “You know, there’s something you do better than anyone else,” she said, rubbing her palm up and down his arm, through her fleece jacket, “You make me smile, and laugh. No matter what, being around you just feels…good. You’re such a cutie, and a fun guy to hang out with. No one has ever made me smile as much as you have these past couple months. I feel…drawn to you.”

Looking up at her, into her sparkling green-and-brown-and-golden eyes, he suddenly couldn’t believe what was happening. He couldn’t believe that this woman, this tall, beautiful woman, his dream woman - no, in fact she seemed to be becoming his fantasy woman - was saying things like this to him. So strong was the rapture in his chest that it quieted the nagging part of him that had started asking what, in god’s name, is actually the fuck going on? The rhapsody of the moment took his tongue again. “It’s been years since a woman’s been this nice to me, this kind,” he admitted, gazing deep into her eyes, beginning to lose himself and feel something, something magnetic, bringing them closer, “I have been kinda lonely…”

Melissa knew just what to say as she turned him at the torso towards herself. “Oh, sweetie,” she said, her voice dropping to a low, deep, sensual purr that rattled his bones as she lowered her face to his, “I can fix that.”

Before he knew it, before he could realize what was happening, her soft lips were locked on his in a kiss. Stars, fireworks, lightning bolts: his vision, behind eyes that immediately closed, was a light show. Crackles and pops, her mouth and tongue opening and entering his and the sounds of brainwaves, neurons, psychic connections being forged. His shuddering, his whine excited her further and she dove deeper, this first kiss suddenly the most heated in which either one had ever engaged. Good god!!! he marveled in shock, head swimming, What the fuck is happening?!?

She, Melissa Monroe, new Office Manager at Far Horizons Medical Associates and nearly six-foot-four to his five-foot-two and outweighing him now by more than a hundred pounds, groaned into their kiss and did all in her power to keep from just pushing him onto his back, tearing off his clothes while grabbing his ankles and lifting and nnnnnghhhh. I think I’m soaking through to the goddamn blanket. She knew she must control she knew she couldn't let it go but still her hand went  to his midthigh, and through his pants she finally, though honestly accidentally, felt it.

OH MY GOD.

He spasmed, he jerked, and as her hand reflexively gripped around it, through his thin pants, he lurched and nearly came. He moaned into her mouth and felt her body tense. He was - oh jesus oh god oh no no no not here not like this - so close to climax, suddenly, that his eyes shot open and he pulled away.

As did she. Immediately, she saw it in his face, that he was groaning, struggling to hold back. She sat back, pulled her hand - surprised, omigod! by how huge he felt! - away, sat up straight, inadvertantly pushing her ample chest out, releasing him from her jacket. Oh no, she lamented as his eyes suddenly locked on it, on her huge tits -  he might, right here-

“I’m s-s-sorry!” he sputtered, having to close his eyes, clamp his jaw, grit his teeth, squeeeeeze….

“No I’m sorry!” she returned, watching him wide-eyed, watching him try to rein it in, hold it back. She gathered her jacket around her chest, as if to help him, remove the temptation from view. Silently. though, she marveled inwardly at how huge, how hard he was. The poor thing!! she thought. But also, a bit sinfully, she couldn’t help but realize…and it was me who did this..? Look at him. What if I were to open my jacket for him again, take a deep breath, let him look and let him see…? Would he actually..?

But, no, she could remain good, under control. This was not the place or time, the way to start. She watched him breathing, gathering himself. She apologized again, barely wanting to move lest it set him off again.

“You shouldn’t be sorry…” he was finally able to speak, opening his eyes, “it’s me…” He felt humiliated. Their first kiss! Ruined!

“No…No. I…I know,” she said, “I’ve been…too affectionate. And…l-looking the way I do…” or smelling the way I smell, sounding the way I sound, ugh!!  “I have to expect…it’s my fault…” or feeling the way I’d feel…or tasting the way I’d taste. She knew she was a lot. Too much.

”N-no…really. You can’t help it…” he continued, still reeling but slowly coming back under control, “Women evolved to..to…” Ugh what am I saying?!? “…to d-draw the male eye.”

omg u have no idea..! she thought, agonizing. “Dr. J…it’s all my fault. It’s me. Everything. I’m…” stop it missy shut up shut up

”y-you’re what?” he asked, bringing his breathing back to normal. It seemed like she wanted to tell him something. Still, though, he kept spewing these ridiculous explantations in apology. “If anything it’s…it’s my…or, like, our fault, men’s…” Am I actually apologizing for the whole male race?

Melissa’s eyes darted this way, and then that. She was, she could tell, overcome by excitement, overcharged with passions and hormones. This was dangerous. She was worried how she was now feeling, suddenly, like she needed to tell him the whole story. Why they’re both changing, why they are the way they are. What brought them together, how she got this job. She felt the emotions brewing, threatening to boil. She can’t have that, not here.

“Just drink your milk,” she directed him, reaching for his mug and, too roughly, shoving it in his hands. Her mind was racing. She knew - she knew - how she got, sometimes. How sometimes she couldn’t rein in her wilder notions and keep her shit straight. She can’t let people notice, especially him. “That would be the worst…” she muttered to herself.

“W-what..?” he asked, becoming more and more confused, after an obedient sip of his milk.

Did I say that out loud?? “N-nothing,” she replied, offhandedly adjusting, through her shirt, a shoulder strap, “sometimes haha my brain just overflows.” Like my bras.

“Hey! Melissa! Melissa!” called a voice, from the path down at the bottom of their little hill, “Is that you? Is that you?”

Who the fuck?? he wondered, attention immediately drawn to the young guy - mid-twenties, probably - jogging up towards them. He was in shorts and a long tee, obviously out for a run in the park. Things were just getting more and more confusing by the second.

“Scottie??” she exclaimed, “Why is he here??” Stop saying these things out loud!! She scolded herself.

“I was just, uh, out for a run, a run,” Scottie “Two-Times” Hempsted panted, trying to smile as he approached, slowing to a walk. “Funny meeting you here!” Who’s this guy she’s with? he wondered, And why does she look like she’s about to pop?

Suddenly, Melissa pulled herself away to gather herself, the bag with the papers, and a random apple. She stood, abruptly, leaving her gaping boss looking up at her, a forgotten mug of lukewarm milk in his hands. Scottie had arrived at their blanket, and stood befuddled. Both were watching her. She needed, she knew, to get the unbridled Melissa out of here. “I’ve…I’ve got to go…” she blurted, “before I say something I shouldn’t...”

…like: ‘I’m a genetically engineered monster’…

Shoving the apple into the bag, she turned away from both men.

…or…

Abruptly, without another spoken word, she hurried off.

…‘I love you.’

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Thank you thank you thank you to so many people on this one. HouseGnome and TopographicSociety for their inspirations, DoubleBurger20 for allowing me to blatantly steal from one of his stories, and  CaptainAmbiguous and Joshua67 for lots of great feedback and encouragement.