by Marian Phair
It was the first time, in months; Millie had seen her employer without drink on her.
Millie sincerely hoped Melissa could sort out her differences with her husband and make a proper go of their marriage for Peter’s sake, if nothing else. If Joe would only spend more time with his son, he would see for himself the mental effect his wife’s drunken abuse, had on the child.
Melissa’s drinking had become a serious problem since their bust-up over this other woman business, and her cruelty to Peter had really got out of hand. She was taking it out on the child, using her three year old son as her whipping post, hurting him in order to get back at her husband.
Fingers crossed, the week in Portugal would resolve all their problems.
Melissa found Amie and Peter on the veranda, heads together over an exercise book; they had not heard her approach. She stood for a few moments, watching them. Amie had her hand over Peter’s guiding the pencil he held. He sat with his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth, laboriously going over what she had written.
At Amie’s ‘clever boy’ Peter smiled up at her, a look of adoration on his little face. For the first time in her life Melissa felt a maternal pang of jealousy. “So this is where you are.” she said loudly, walking over to them, fixing a smile on her face. She looked down at what they had been doing.
Amie had written ‘Peter’ on the page in large capital letters and he had been trying to copy it by going over it again with his pencil. Peter sat in silence, unsmiling, looking up at his mother and studying her face, as if waiting for her approval, unsure of her reaction. He looked like a rabbit that had been caught in the headlights of a car. When Melissa remained quiet, he finally found his voice, “It says Peter, and it’s my name.”
“Well so it does,” Melissa said, placing an arm across his shoulders, “since you are such a clever little boy, I have a surprise for you. We are going on a trip, just you and mummy, to a country called Portugal and guess who will be waiting to meet us?” She asked him, getting no response from Peter, who still sat mesmerized. “Your daddy, we are going on a holiday to be with your daddy.”
At the mention of his father, Peter was overjoyed, jumping from the chair with a whoop of delight and doing a funny little dance, as he chanted,
“Daddy, daddy, going to see my daddy.” Both women could see just how much he loved his father.
Melissa turned to Amie, who stood smiling, saying, “I am giving you a holiday too, with Peter away for a week it will give you a chance to shop, or to go sight-seeing on your own, or whatever your heart desires don’t worry you will still be paid.“ Taking Peter by the hand, Melissa said, “We have to get ready for our trip, so say goodbye to Amie.”
“How are you travelling?” Amie asked her, hoping her voice did not betray her relief.
“We have a small private plane at our disposal,” Melissa replied, “in fact it is the one that flew you here. The plane and the limousine are part of the rental deal; we have with the owner of Rojo Tejado. It goes to show what money can do for you, if you have lots of it eh?”
Peter looked back as they walked away and waved to Amie, who waved back and blew him a kiss.
A whole week in which to do as she pleased, it sounded great. Amie knew she would miss Peter terribly; the little chap had stolen her heart, but, what a relief to have a break from Melissa and not have to tiptoe around her all the time.
Watching them walk away Amie could not get the image, out of her head, of Melissa and her lover locked in a sexual embrace, in the alcove in Tarragona.
CHAPTER TEN
On the flight to Portugal, Melissa sat daydreaming, planning the seduction of her husband down to the very last detail.
On a recent trip to Barcelona she had seen a lovely black negligee in a shop window; its matching gown was slit up the front almost to the waist. A heart-shaped thong edged in black satin and tied at the hip completed the outfit.
Melissa tried it on, in the changing room at the back of the store, admiring her reflection in the long mirror as she turned this way and that.
She had purchased the outfit, along with a pair of black high-heeled mules, with a strip of fur across the top. Everything lay nestling in its tissue paper wrapping, in her suitcase.
Melissa visualised herself in the hotel bedroom, wearing her black negligee, picturing herself framed in the doorway in a seductive pose. Her imagination took off as she planned what she would do to Joe and what she could get him to do to her, once he was back in her grasp. So vivid were the images in her head that she found she was getting turned on by them. Hitching her mini skirt even higher up her thighs, she slipped a hand inside her panties. Leaning back in her seat she slowly and leisurely pleasured herself, whilst Peter slept contentedly in the seat beside her.
‘What to do about the boy?’ she mused, she would need to give him some time on a one-on-one with his father, before putting her plans into action. She would have to wait until he was tucked up in bed for the night. She could crush up one of her sleeping tablets and slip it into the warm milk he had each night before going to bed. Since he was so young, maybe she should use only half a tablet, after all, she did not want to harm the boy, only ensure he did not wake up and come looking for anything in the night, disrupting her carefully laid plans.
Melissa knew Joe had not forgiven her for her infidelity with Hugh O’Leary, although after that night the subject was never brought up again, not even when she accused him of being with another woman. No matter how provoked, he had never cast her infidelity in her face, believing it to be the one and only time she had been unfaithful to him during their marriage. He had tried to give her a second chance, although thing’s were never the same again between them now that the trust had gone completely from their relationship.
They had been guests at film producers Hugh O’Leary’s fortieth birthday party. Melissa had found herself seated next to Hugh’s American wife Cynthia; they found themselves discussing romantic film roles.
“Well, if you want my opinion,” Cynthia said, sipping her Manhattan, “I really don’t think graphic scenes of sex and violence can be justified in film roles.” She waited while their glasses were refilled before continuing, “Nor do I think they are absolutely essential to the role being played. Hugh disagrees with me on the subject and says the opposite is true.”
“I happen to agree with you on this one Cynthia,” said Melissa, “sometimes I think the reason why script writers put scenes of graphic sexual activity in the film is so they can get their kicks.”
“I believe the expression is ‘get their rocks off’ I heard it used somewhere,”
Cynthia said, and the two women laughed, as if knowing that the expression had to have come from a man in the first place.
They continued their conversation over Manhattan cocktails, Cynthia’s specialty. Melissa remarked how fit Hugh looked.
He was a tall slim handsome man, his dark hair greying at the temples, lending him a distinguished look. He did not look anything like his forty years.
Cynthia, the Manhattan’s having loosened up her tongue, gave her husband an admiring look as he danced with their daughter Bridie.
“He is great in the sack, and VERY well endowed, if you know what I mean?” She confided in Melissa, giving her a nudge and a wink. Melissa knew only too well what she meant!
Dancing a slow waltz with Hugh later, Melissa nuzzled into him and whispered. “What would you say if I told you I had nothing on under this dress?” She rubbed herself up against him, as they danced, rolling her thigh across his crotch, feeling the heat between them and his arousal.
“I am going outside for some fresh air, why don’t you join me?” she whispered softly in his ear.
Seeing Hugh leave a few minutes later, she slipped out through the back door, following the path around the side of the house, to where the cars were parked. Hugh was waiting for her to join him and unlocking his vehicle they got into the back.
He was every bit as big and as go
od as Cynthia had told her he was. Hugh was as rough in his love making, as Joe was gentle and she was enjoying the contrast between the two men. Melissa promised herself a lot more of this man’s love making, but she would have to be very discreet.
As for Hugh, for the first time in his life he had a woman lying under him, that would actually take his entire penis in, right to the hilt and with her legs around his neck, he was loving every minute of it. They were so taken up in each other; they never heard Joe’s footsteps on the gravel path, as he headed in their direction.
Melissa had looked over Hugh’s shoulder, just as Joe approached the car. Joe stopped in his tracks when he was close enough to realise what was taking place. Melissa saw the shocked look on his face when he recognised her. Hugh had not seen Joe and knew nothing was amiss; he was lost in the throes of passion and exploded inside her, in the biggest climax of his life, collapsing in a heap on top of her once spent. Without a word, Joe had turned on his heel and walked away.
Joe had gone when Melissa got back to the house, taking the car and leaving her to find her own way home. It turned out, Cynthia had received a telephone call from the baby sitter, hired to watch over Peter. She was letting them know that Peter had vomited and he was asking for his daddy and she could not pacify him. Meanwhile, some busybody had spotted Melissa sneaking out from the party and had told Joe, who had come looking for her.
Arriving home in a taxi, she had begged his forgiveness, blaming the amount of drink she had consumed for her lack of morals. Being unused to strong liquor, it had gone to her head and she had turned on the water-works saying. “You know you are the only man I have ever loved and ever will, Hugh O’Leary means nothing to me.” She told him between sobs, that it would never happen again and pleaded with him for another chance.
Finally he had agreed to put the affair behind them for the sake of their son, but things were never the same between them again.
Since the night of Hugh O’Leary’s party, it was as if Joe found her repulsive in some way. The more she wanted him, the less it seemed, he wanted her, spending more time pursuing his career. She had eventually slipped back into her old ways, blaming Joe’s lack of interest for her one night stands and affairs. He knew how much she loved sex, she needed it damn it!
Melissa thought Joe’s infidelity was his way of getting back at her. She had never believed his story of how the makeup had got on his clothes.
Knowing men inside and out, she could read them like a book, and she knew he had lied to her about being with a woman. She wondered if he had an affair with her, or was it just a quickie, done on the spur of the moment.
Whichever was the case, the woman must not be in his life now, or he would not be trying to save his marriage. Melissa realised if she messed up this chance of reconciliation, she would not get another chance. She knew he would walk away for good if he ever found out about her other affairs, so was determined to hold on to him.
Melissa had made a call to Dr Sam before leaving for Portugal and he had made things right for her with Gregory Hines, the producer, who strongly felt he had a box office hit with this film.
Not wishing to compromise the final scenes involving Melissa, he had agreed to her taking a few days off from filming. He would shoot the other scenes round her, until her return, to heck with the cost. Speaking to her over the telephone, Gregory told Melissa to enjoy her break and to return fully refreshed for her final scenes. He told her she was brilliant in her portrayal of Sara Wilkes and he could already feel the Oscar in his hand.
Sara Wilkes had been a hard drinking, fast living woman. The film told her life story, from her abusive childhood, her numerous unhappy affairs, to her tragic death at the age of thirty-five.
No wonder I am so good in the part, Melissa thought, allowing herself a secret smile. I am playing myself.
Joe was not waiting at the airport. Angry that she was not being met, and that she had put herself out to go to him, Melissa sought out a porter to help with their luggage. She strode off to the waiting taxis, holding her make-up box in one hand, and holding on with a tight grip to Peter’s arm with the other, almost dragging him along. He was forced to run along beside her, to keep up with her, trying to stay on his feet. The porter trailed behind them carrying a suitcase in each hand. Melissa gave the taxi driver the name of the hotel, and on the short journey there, tried to calm herself down, knowing if she allowed her anger to show, she would blow her chances, before she had even started to put her plan into action.
Joe was waiting for them in the hotel foyer and spotting his father, Peter tugged his hand free from hers and ran towards him, calling out his name, his little face wreathed in smiles as his father scooped him up in his arms and kissed his cheek.
“How’s my little man,” he said, “have you missed me?” Peter put his arms around his father’s neck, holding on to him tightly.
Joe turned to greet his wife giving her a quick peck on the cheek; he asked politely if they had a good journey. Without waiting for her reply, he asked at the desk if their luggage could be brought up to suite 204. Joe led the way to the lifts, letting Peter press the buttons.
Later, settled in their suite, showered and fed, Joe told her of the contract he had landed which he intended to keep.
“I am here to sign the papers and to make the final arrangements before taking up a three year assignment in South Africa”, Joe said, “That’s why we need to talk. We have to sort out our lives; we owe it to the boy”.
He did not use Peter’s name deliberately, and kept his voice low so that the child would not think anything was amiss. He turned his head to look at Peter who was lying on his belly on the floor, crayon in hand, busily colouring-in pictures in his book.
“We need to be together as a family,” he continued, “not living almost separate lives as we are now. I want you to join me out there when you have finished filming. There is a really good infant school we can get Peter into next year; I have already checked it out. You could have a break from your career, it would do us all good and I need to do my best for the boy.”
Here we go again Melissa thought, the ‘boy,’ the ‘boy,’ it was always about the bloody boy! What about her for once, she had feelings too, didn’t he care about that, she was sick to death of playing second fiddle to the bloody boy! Melissa looked at him saying, “If I do as you wish and go with you to South Africa, where more than likely no one will have even heard of me, let alone seen one of my films, what would I do to pass the time?.” Joe would be working most of the time she thought and she would be left on her own looking after Peter, unless they had a nanny for him. She would be bored to tears. “Three years is a long time to be away from the business I am in, I may never get work again. It would be the end of my career, just when I am getting to the peak of it,” ‘THREE YEARS.’
Melissa reached for her cigarettes, her hands shaking as she tried to keep the rage she felt under control, ‘Peter, Peter, Peter,’ this was all about Peter. Joe does not give a flying fuck about my feelings, she thought.
Joe, always the gentleman, leaned over and taking up her lighter, flicked the barrel across with his thumb and held the flame towards her. Melissa took a deep drag on her cigarette, drawing the smoke down into her lungs, then tilting her head back slowly, attempted to calm herself down, finding it difficult to keep control. Joe leaned back in his seat, looking at her intently,
“I want you to give it some serious thought and if we are to make a go of this marriage at all, this is the way it is going to be. You have realised your dream and I took a back seat, now at long last, I am about to realise mine.”
Peter had fallen asleep over his colouring book, out to the world. Joe lifted the sleeping child and carried him to his room and lying him gently down on the bed he did not bother to undress him fully. Removing his shoes and carefully easing off his trousers, he pulled the duvet over him, gently kissed him on the forehead and tip-toed out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
&nbs
p; Melissa had no need to resort to drugging the child. While Joe was seeing to Peter, she called down to room service, ordering a bottle of their best Champagne.
With the Champagne cooling in the ice bucket, Joe was relaxing on the bed watching television with the sound turned down. She still had not given him her answer and had no intentions of doing so, yet!
Melissa slipped into the bathroom and donned her black negligee.
She brushed her teeth, and then applied fresh lipstick to her lips, blotting them carefully on a piece of toilet paper, and then working her lips together. Then removing the band from her ponytail she brushed out her peroxide hair, dabbed perfume behind her ears, between her breasts, on her wrists and the back of her knees. She slipped her feet into the high-heeled mules, then checked her reflection in the mirror, forming her lips into a sexy pout and pleased with what she saw, opened the bathroom door.
She had deliberately left the bathroom light on and she knew as she stood silhouetted in the doorway, one arm resting up its frame the other on her hip, Joe would be able to see through the outfit she was wearing. She would appear naked without being naked, whetting his appetite for more.
“Hello lover,” she said softly, and when she had his attention asked,
“See anything you like?” She moved slowly towards him, swaying her hips and running her hands over her body, performing a ‘bump-and-grind’ dance, slowly stripping for him. Joe remained on the bed; his eyes never left Melissa’s body, as she performed for him.
Melissa crawled naked onto the foot of the bed, slowly working her way up to him. She sat astride his chest and cupping her breasts in her hands, offered them up to him and could feel his erection through his clothing. Slowly, ever so slowly, she removed his clothing, bit-by-bit, between kisses, using her teeth as well as her hands. Gently stroking his body, keeping her touch feather light, without touching his penis, she circled it with her finger. Then she went to work on his body, covering him with small kisses, running her tongue up and down it, alternately licking and flicking it over him, teasing him. She was giving the performance of her life, pulling out all the stops, until he could stand it no longer, and reached for her hungrily. She smiled secretly, as he entered her, knowing she had him right where she wanted him now.