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Melody

by John J.

Published by John J. at Smashwords

Copyright © John J. 2018


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Melody



Melody couldn’t have felt anything anymore—numb—she’d given all she had that night. She was the type of girl one called for a good time; phone calls blew up her android, she had no choice but to hit up Jimmy’s joint. Surrendered, drained, wasted, Melody lay on a white, fluffy carpet.

She had one too many drinks, but before she’d spent her vibrant energy, the wind electrified under her singing voice, she’d inspired all those around her to swing from chandeliers.

She lived like tomorrow never existed, like she was a bird and, being the only one awake at night, soared, free and daring.

Melody thought she couldn’t get hurt, yet again.

Her ink smeared eyes woke up drenched in shame, next to an empty bottle of whiskey. She’d kept her glass full until the morning light and when she threw one back there came one of her cheerful fans, offered her another.

She held on as long as she could, she’d spun gracefully on her toes like a fairy over a leaf, the sparkling dust of her love glittered the air around her to smiling faces. She’d lost count of all that she’d done, with whom, when she felt two hands shaking her shoulders.

“Come on, get up,” said Jason. “You’re freakin hammered.”

“What happened?”

“Karaoke, you kept getting all the notes wrong.”

She smacked her fingers over her head. “Oh, shit, my head is splitting.”

“Why do you always start singing around people when you’re drunk? You scared everybody away. You know you can’t sing for shit.”

Jason, an old neighborhood friend, helped Melody up to sit, handed her two blue pills and a glass of fresh water.

“But they were all smiling, handed me drinks.”

“They were laughing at you, trying to get you drunk to get you to shut up!”

“What was I singing?”

“Sia’s Chandelier. Like, ten times! Please don’t ever do that again.”

Melody dried her lips with the back of her hand. Her head fell back against the couch, her eyes closed, snored like a bear.


***


One year ago …

The scar just above the waistline of her low-riding jeans was paler than the rest of her milky skin. She’d been shot in Syria, Tommy knew; nearly died in an incursion in the midst of the mountains. When she’d finally regained consciousness in an Army base in Israel, they’d told her she’d won a medal for saving another soldier’s life—his. Before her his life was like being held hostage in a heavily guarded concentration camp. After her, though he never really had her yet, it was all sunshine and rainbows. She’d told them they could keep the medal and send Tommy to Israel, to find her, for a reward.

They’d recruited him into the ranks of desk military secretaries instead. Tommy knew he would spend the rest of his youthful life buried under piles of papers and folders. Anything was better than calling his commander and asking for his transfer. They rarely give you what you want, especially when someone wants the same thing you want—her.

Jerk!

Tommy knew the commander lusted for her, his lovely Melody.

Her nipples were dark and stubby. Tommy could easily see them erect through the smattering of curly, blonde hair on her thin white T-shirt. As usual, her short, wavy hair was tousled. It fell on the side of her face. He looked at her shiny lips in a fixed, intent expression as he slowly pushed his begging cock between her widely spread welcoming lips.

Tommy stared, held captive by the erotic sensations. It was as if his brain had melted right along with his muscles, greased up for mobility.

She felt confused, she realized dazedly. It had become warm and achy between her thighs, but she was disconnected to her sexual arousal. She’d recognized her body’s response in the same bizarre, detached manner with which she watched the man she’d once loved with all her body and soul having sex with another woman. Even though she throbbed in desire, Melody had gone numb.

A black memory clouded her brain that instant: when the woman strained forward with her head, drawing several inches of thick, veined flesh between her lips, Melody swore revenge.

He tightened his hold on the handful of blonde hair he grasped at the woman’s nape. Melody knew from experience the restraint of his hand would be very firm.

The woman moaned in obvious protest when he withdrew his cock from her mouth. It made a popping noise as it cleared her lips. His penis fell at a downward angle, weighted by the heavy, tapered cockhead.

All this she witnessed through the recording from leaving her cell phone, its camera pointed at the bedroom, set to record. But Melody said nothing. She knew she had a right to let him go, but something inside her wanted their relationship fixed.

Melody loved Tommy.

This was Melody’s opportunity to get back at the sloppy bitch, whoever she was, for enjoying her manhood. How dare her, to have left his cock drenched in her despicable spit. No matter how many times she washed it, and dried it, the memory came back, all the things she saw in the video.

The way the woman’s lips curved in shared humor over something inaudible. The notion that it was about her burned her with rage.

Was she better than me? Melody thought, many times over.

He’d convinced her that she was only the result of Melody’s splitting away with the commander for a few days. Melody explained that it was a mission, but Tommy knew all too well the look in the commander’s eyes, the sparkle of lust for Melody. He was the reason why Tommy was kept from seeing Melody after she got shot.

Cruel bastard.

“Fuck! I’m about to bust down here, you asshole.” Her voice sounded gruff, desire-roughened. Tommy could see that her face shifted from restraint to vulnerable.

He stopped his erection at her vaginal opening, his head pumping against the threshold, his way of making her beg violently for him. “Oh, you want me to stop? I can stop. Just say the word, I can pull out.”

She could kill him at that moment, sink her freshly painted acrylic nails deep into his neck, into his bulging artery, and bleed him to death. She’d be acquitted in court, too. His cause of death—He should’ve known better.

The woman tried to shift forward to get it back in, but his hands were firm against the bottom of her butt cheeks.

“Damn you,” she hissed. She looked up at him, her expression both plaintive and irritated.

He chuckled before ramming his cock violently into her, in hard, repeated thrusts. The woman’s lips curved in shared humor. No one could resist Tommy when he smiled and she hated her for basking in the glow of his joy.

That privilege belonged to Melody and only Melody.

But at that moment, she was too busy being fucked, raw and hard-body, and she wasn’t going to let anything, or any bitch, get in the way of her enjoying it.


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