Journey into Melanie's Reality Ch. 04

Author's note: Melanie and Sandy are in Sydney, and this is what happened after the reception to launch the Australian edition of his novel. If you haven't read the previous three chapters, it will help if you do so.

I'm delighted that I can now continue this. Sorry, readers, for the long interlude between chapters: life's like that sometimes.

My thanks to my beloved partner and muse for her inspiration and assistance, and to raconteuse, whose professional editing has made this infinitely more readable.

*****

Her hand gently shaking his shoulder woke him eventually:

-Hey sleepyhead, here's your tea. This is our day, so you're not allowed to lie in. I know you got very pissed last night; you woke me when you staggered in. How was the TV show... and the party afterwards?

-Ohhhh... Good morning darling. My head's not too great now. I'll tell you presently. There are painkillers in my case.... please?

-Hope that doesn't mean you need time to make up a story love?

She placed the pills beside his tea, kissed him. Recoiled from his breath. His mouth tasted like a sewer, so he knew how he must smell:

-No sweetness, no story to make up. Sorry I'm in this state.

-Mmm. Might help if you brushed your teeth and used mouthwash. I need to shower.

He gulped painkillers and tea, staggered to the bathroom as Melanie entered the shower:

-Need your back attended to darling?

-Just clean your mouth out, you disgusting man...

She looked at him fondly:

-You're not coming near me till you do.

She was singing in the shower as he gulped the best part of a litre of bottled water. She emerged as he entered the bathroom:

-You need your shower now. And it's late. I don't want to miss breakfast, however you feel, so get a move on.

Fifteen minutes later he was showered and shaved, and they were sitting at their table overlooking Darling Harbour. No sunshine today, an unrelenting mass of grey in the sky moving slowly landward from the Pacific.

-So my silly drunken man, you ready to tell me about your day, and evening?

-You know it was pretty busy love. Three newspaper interviews, two radio slots, and of course the dinner and TV show in the evening...

He related the details over an unhurried breakfast. Including the drunken party after the TV show.

-And Ms Tellyfloozy didn't make a move on you? In light of her behaviour at the reception, I thought she would. I was a bit worried about it actually; you're anyone's with a drink in you...

She squeezed his hand affectionately.

-Um, well... she made it obvious that she was... available. I made it clear, politely I hope, that I wasn't going there. Ended up getting pissed with a couple of technicians who were strong union guys, so we had lots to exchange. It was fun, though I'm paying for it this morning. How was your day love? I noticed you dressed rather... alluringly... for your interview with Steve from the Australian Literary Review?

A broad grin creased her face:

-Um, yes, I did, rather. Karen told me it might help my interview, just how the guy's wired. A girl needs to do something to sell obscure poetry. It didn't seem to do any harm... in fact he invited me to dinner last night, and I accepted. He was charming and very knowledgeable about contemporary poetry and much else, so I had an entertaining evening. He made it apparent he was... interested in me. I told him outright I wasn't going to have sex with him, and after that awkwardness was out of the road, the evening went well. I went shopping in the afternoon; not so often I have free time in the big city. Now sweetness, I have something planned for our day, if your hangover, and your libido, can cope?

His brows rose. She didn't usually spring surprises on him:

-Darling mine, I can cope with whatever you want to do. So what's the agenda?

-I want to show you something of my Sydney love. Where I studied and lived as a student here... maybe – her eyes went to the louring sky outside – my favourite beach. I'll show you the tourist stuff before we get the train home tomorrow. But today is a slice of my personal history. That OK?

His eyes sparkled:

-Yes sweetness, I'd like that very much. Always want to know more of you... and I dragged you through some of my history in Glasgow, so fair's fair.

So she took him round parts of the University of Sydney. He was entranced, imagining her as an eager teenage undergraduate. His arm was round her waist, hand slipping to her beautiful bum frequently. She stopped outside a student residence, pointed upwards:

-That room there, third window from the end, is where I um... had my first fuck.

His cock, tumescent all morning, went rigid. He visualised her innocent cunt, accepting cock for the first time, went weak at the thought...

She read him perfectly. Her hand went to the groin of his jeans:

-Bet you wish you could have been my first darling?

Her breathing betrayed her own excitement. His hand slid up her thigh, under the short leather skirt. Felt wetness on the silk between her legs. They massaged each other gently. Both were panting:

-No my beautiful woman. I love that we can enjoy each others' sexuality fully now. That we both benefit from our experiences with other lovers, in the past. We're who we are darling, and it's a long time since either of us were virgins. Thank goodness. But I want you now. Maybe we could nip back to the hotel for a quickie?

-Hmm... tempting... But no, that's not on the agenda. Time to move somewhere else. Lunch first though, I'm hungry again... for food.

Her hand left his groin, grasped his arm firmly:

-This way...

They ate at a Korean place on the edge of Chinatown, in the shadow of the overhead monorail. Melanie ate enthusiastically; Sandy's appetite still suffered from his previous night's drinking. He didn't know how she could eat so much and still remain lithe and fit – well, he did: she burned it up with her enthusiasm for life. Rain pattered on the awning, and she looked at the clouds, face scrunched in thought:

-Looks like it might be damp on my beach darling, but we have rainjackets in the rucsac. You up for a visit to the seaside?

-Bondi Beach? You know I want to learn you. Yes, sure...

Her laughter raised heads around them:

-Dillbrain! Certainly not Bondi Beach. My private beach, quiet and secluded, off the tourist trail. You should know me better by now. Would you get the bill sweetness? Time to move.

*****

They left the train half-an-hour later, wandered nondescript suburban streets. Then there was a wee band of parkland, rolling grey Pacific surf beyond. The rain started, and they made a dash for a picnic table under a huge umbrella. There were no other humans in sight. They stood gazing east at the eternity of ocean, the next landfall thousands of miles away in Chile. His hand went to her arse, slid up under her skirt. Underneath it she was naked, and his fingers stroked between her wet labia:

-So. My darling's in dirtygirl mode now?

-I... took them off in the train toilet. Knew we didn't need them...

She was panting. Stroked the bulge in his jeans:

-We need to fuck here. Not right here, too public, don't want to get arrested. But somewhere near. Soon. Need your cock in me darling. Yes, I'm your dirtygirl now.

He held her face, gazed in her beautiful limpid brown eyes, hooded now with lust:

-So come on dirtygirl, let's find our fuckspot.

Normally on a strange beach he would have been clutching birdbook and binoculars. Now he couldn't even think. His hand was under her skirt, probing her naked arse. Nothing in his head at all. Lust, the need to fuck his woman, consumed him.

They crossed the mouth of a stream spilling onto the beach, a smirr of rain dampening their bodies but not their ardour. He pointed to a carpet of scrub just above the high-water mark. Stroked her arse again. Felt her oozing sexjuice:

-In there darling, that'll do...

She ran towards an opening in the bushes, pushed through. A few yards in was a small clearing, some grass pushing through the sand. Condom foils and empty beercans, picnic litter. She turned as he caught up with her:

-This is suitably sordid for a dirtyfuck darling. Want this hot cunt?

She raised her short skirt, pouted her wet sex at him. He almost knocked her over as he grabbed her, a turmoil of need. Began lowering her to the ground...

-My dirty sexman, a practical matter. I don't want sand in my cunt - she smiled lewdly – and neither do you...

Panting, he drew his goretex jacket from the rucsac. Bowed elaborately as he spread it over the most even bit of the clearing, kicking litter away. Grunted as he removed his trainers, and wriggled out of his jeans:

-Our fuckmat, dirtygirl.

Still standing, her gaping cunt remained presented to him, her legs apart:

-Slap your cunt, master.

-Oh jesus...

His cock rampant, his hand slapped her wetness and he watched her eyes turning up:

-More, slap it harder. Your cunt...

He watched in awe as her beloved face contorted to the blows. One arm went round her for support, as the other swung with loving precision. On the final slap she shuddered and went limp on him, her head falling back, only the whites of her eyes showing. Jesus, what intense sexuality. He loved everything about her, but this was something new. He gasped, hoarse with lust:

-The position dirtygirl, now. Have to take you.

She crouched in submission, arse high on her strong legs, cunt and anus gaping:

-Dirtygirl needs master's fuck...

-Oh jesus darling...

She grunted as his cock slithered into her wetness, the intensity overwhelming. Just cock in cunt, every part of their beings poured into this sexplay. The friction of overwhelming need. Her hand a blur at her clit as he pounded her, all her forward weight on one hand. She shuddered unsteadily under the pressure of his fucking and eventually her arm gave out and she collapsed forward in orgasm, his cock held in place by the excruciating tightness of her explosion:

-Jesus dirtyman, arse now, fuck my arse...

He grabbed her hair and pushed himself into her spasming darkness, her head wrenched up above the debris of condom residue and empty cans. It was raining hard now, wet splodges pockmarking the dirty sand, but neither noticed in the transport of their lust. He fucked her brutally, his fingers round her throat as his scrotum tightened:

-Now dirtygirl, now. Take master's spunk up your arse...

His fingers tightened round her throat and he sank in her a last time. Her screams rose from the sordid place, high over his feral grunting, and their sexneed released, explosion of beautiful reciprocation.

His spent form collapsed on her trembling body. Soaked with sweat and rain and sex, they lay united in spent lust as the rain drummed on them, as incessant as their need had been a few minutes previously. He lifted her hair, kissed the nape of her beautiful neck:

-Thank you for showing me your beach darling. I suppose you fucked here a few times, when you lived here?

Her movements told him she wanted to rise. He drew back and his softening cock slithered from the clutches of her arse. She twisted up and round, knelt before him, her eyes burning in his:

-No my love, never. I always came here when I wanted to be alone. It's our beach now. Always will be. Our fuckbeach. Our special loving place.

*****

An hour later, still wet despite the efficiency of the heaters in the train, they were in the shower in their hotel room, lovingly washing each other. They hadn't spoken of what had happened in their sordid sexnest above the beach. They dried each other in silence, between languorous kisses. She glanced at the clock when they padded back to the bedroom:

-Darling, it's five o'clock. D'you want to cancel our dinner with Karen?

-No sweetness, we both owe her a lot, and she's lovely company. But... I'm not sure we should have anything more than dinner with her. I'm sure she's up for a threesome, and part of me would like that, but today... it just wouldn't feel right.

-Hmm – stroking his tumescent cock – I know what part of you would relish playing with her, with both of us. And part of me wants it too...

She took his hand and placed it in her damp groin.

-... but maybe you're correct. Not tonight. Perhaps next time we're in Sydney, before your flight home? It's early morning, so we'll have to overnight in the city anyway? So maybe it would be best if we eat in a restaurant, not here. Just to keep temptation out of our road?

-Mmm, aye, that makes sense. With a couple of drinks in you, you'd be dragging her into our room, whatever your intentions now...

-Is that right? Look who's talking... god I adore you...

And they collapsed into a languid kiss, still naked. She pressed her need on his thigh, but he pushed her away:

-Darling, after the beach I don't have anything left for you...

-But you have fingers. Use them. Now. Must have it.

He laid her gently on the bed, hair still wet from the shower, and their mouths closed as his hand reached her thighs. Stroked lovingly. Moved inch-by-inch nearer her need, deliberately teasing. Smelled her now as she spread her legs wider. Glided over her hairless mons, carefully avoiding the seeping wetness below it. But he couldn't maintain the tease, never could for very long. Plunged two fingers into her, curling and seeking her urgency, as his lips sought a hard nipple. She was panting now:

-Oh sweetness, how I adore you... more, harder...

His fingers twisted and clawed in her, short nails digging into the spongewall as his teeth tugged the aching protrusion of her teat. She groaned:

-Oh sweetgod... I belong to you darling...

As the tremors engulfed her, her orgasm squirted and his fingers were trapped by greedy cuntmuscles. He watched the face he loved, the woman he'd travelled ten thousand miles to be with. Kissed her gently, withdrew his wet hand from her:

-Well darling, now that you're feeling better, maybe it's time to phone our dinner-date...

He watched as she pushed the buttons. Listened as well as he could to the dialogue.

She put the phone down, glanced at the time, smiled:

-We've two hours before we meet her. She's chosen a good Lebanese place about a mile away. D'you think that's far enough from temptation?

He nodded in agreement. Her face tightened a fraction:

-But now, darling mine, before we meet her, we need to talk.

She took his hands, looked deep in his eyes:

-Why don't you want to fuck her? You've always been up for willing cunt, even since we met, and fell irrevocably in love...

-Sweetness, I...

-Hud yer wheesht love, isn't that what you say? I want to know, after your infidelities to me, and our fantasies about threesomes of both kinds, why you're going to turn her down now? The first real likelihood of a threesome we've ever had. I bet she's soaking at the thought of what she hopes will happen tonight. I must admit the possibility excites me. I'm game if you are...so... if you want to change your mind...

She watched the pain in his face, the moment of indecision. Almost hoped he'd give in: it had been a long time since she'd been with a woman, and the memory of Karen's body next to hers, two nights previously, was powerful. She wriggled her hips at the thought. Then his face set again, determined:

-No love, I'm not changing my mind. If you want sex with her, that's fine. I'd... um... love to watch you with her actually. But not participate. Not with Karen anyway.

-Why not?

-Darling mine, because no matter what we've discussed and fantasised, and however the thought excites me...

-Of course it does dillbrain, I know who you are...

-Aye, course it does. But I'm not going there. We're building our love in the reality of your life my sweet. Right now it would be wrong, for me at least, to have someone else... intervene. Maybe when we're a bit further down the road, more secure with each other... but not now. Don't want anyone else in my life now, in any way. But don't let me get in your road if you want to play. I know you haven't been with a woman in a long time. Karen is very sweet. And she's obviously interested in you. As any sexual being would be...

Melanie shivered as his fingers teased her breast:

-Darling, you still haven't really explained. Please?

She watched a brief look of irritation flash across the face she loved. Something she had rarely seen. His jaw clenched. His voice was cold, hard:

-Jesus darling...

He paused, brow wrinkled:

-I just don't want sex with Karen tonight. You have permission to do what you want with her. With anyone: I've always told you that. But I don't want her. Not tonight. Besides, she's my publisher here. - his face broke into a smile – It would hardly be professional conduct to fuck her, now would it? But... she's not your publisher...

-So you'd fuck her if she wasn't your publisher?

-I turned down Msfloozy last night, didn't I?

-Um, well, so you told me...

There was anger in his voice now:

-Melanie, I know I've told you lies in the past, online... when I couldn't admit to myself, let alone you, that I'd... strayed. But you know perfectly well that I can't look you in the face and lie to you. - His eyes pierced hers, and she knew the truth - I DID NOT fuck that woman last night. I WILL NOT fuck Karen tonight. Got that? Now, can we get dressed and find a decent coffee before we meet her?

She was a bit shaken by his intensity. Then she giggled, and all was well between them:

-Um, sweetness... d'you think I should shower the sexstink from me? Or dress as I am?

His full smile, the glow in his eyes:

-Darling, I think you should do as you please. Not for me to advise you on this...

She hesitated for a few moments. Rose and dried her long hair. Started dressing. Provocatively. He thought he knew what that meant as he selected a suit, formal shirt. And the Frank Lloyd Wright silk tie she'd given him. He wanted to be cool and professional, whatever her intentions. They brushed each other down once both were dressed. She whispered:

-You mentioned coffee? And maybe I need a drink too... a good stiff one.

His fingers slipped under her short skirt, hooked over her groin:

-Well. We'd better find what you need then.

*****

The cafe-bar was, Melanie said, just down the road from their venue with Karen. He glanced around as they entered it. The street was full of middle-eastern restaurants, but this place had a mild Irish feel. Not the blatant fake-Irish of theme bars. It felt right.

He ordered her latte and a cappuccino for himself...

-and two double Bushmills please. No ice, but a wee jug of water. With two half-pints of Murphy's.

Both looked round the place, unspeaking, whilst they waited for the order. A lassie in the corner was singing 'She moved through the fair' to a haunting fiddle accompaniment. Sandy smiled at his lover:

-You picked a good place sweetheart.

-When have I ever failed you, darling?

He dribbled water in their whiskeys, raised his glass to his woman:

-Slainthe, darling. To an enjoyable evening, at the end of a remarkable day...

The glasses kissed. She whispered:

-I love you my sweet.

They chatted inconsequentially, sipping coffee and drinks. She glanced at her watch as they drained the stout:

-Um, five minutes till we meet her, love. Best not be late, eh?

They were seated at a window table, glowing in a sunset the clouds had finally revealed. Melanie glanced round and gasped. His eyes followed hers:

-Jesus. Christ, is that her?

The vision in a short diaphanous white dress edged towards them between crowded tables. There was no evidence of lingerie beneath it, garter belt apart. His cock stiffened, earlier resolve faltering. Melanie rose first to greet Karen with a close embrace, a long deep kiss. He noted his lover's fingers on the woman's breasts as the two parted, breathing heavily. Then it was his turn.