MELODY OF LOVE
Melody first learned of "Melody of Love" from her new boss, Tom.
It was his favorite recording, one he shared at "Sam's Happy Hour" where he'd talked the owner of the bar into putting a custom copy of it into his old-fashioned juke-box.
Melody and Tom were years apart in age and experience, but their intelligence and warm hearts, were well matched.
Every Friday night after their co-workers left for home, they would inevitably end up sitting in a cozy corner booth talking non-stop until 2 A.M.
Whether they knew it or not, any casual observer could sense that something magical was happening between them and it had little to do with business.
* * * * * * *
Tom was the majority stock holder and chief executive officer of Evan's Products, a "Just In Time" supplier to General Motors Manufacturing Plant that sat adjacent to them.
Melody worked for Evan's also. She was a recent college drop out, who'd contracted mono in the fall of her sophomore year. She'd nearly died and her strength was slow to return. Eventually she got so far behind, her marks suffered and she lost the funding connected to her scholarships
Deep down, she was ashamed of having to work in a factory, but managed to hide the news from her mom and dad who bought the lie she'd sold them--that she was happy and doing well at Wayne State University--a straight "A" student.
And it was the truth, prior to the mono.
Her parents told everyone what a good student she was, how she was a shoe-in for Wayne State's Law School. It wasn't Harvard, where her Uncle Harry and Aunt Marjory had graduated, but they approved it anyway as there was no denying Wayne State had an excellent reputation for turning out top-notch lawyers.
Counting on Melody to set an example for her younger siblings, her parents dreamed the brother and sister would someday join Melody in a family law firm.
Uncle Harry and Aunt Marjory had made provisions for them in a family trust fund, hoping to inspire them all to get law degrees.
The aunt and uncle had no children and although they weren't rich, they wanted to leave what money was left to make a significant difference--they figured this way they'd get the most "bang for their buck," and so would their heirs.
It was like the old story, give kids a fish, they will eat for a day, teach them how to fish, they'll eat for a lifetime. To put them all through college wasn't possible, but to finance the expenses of establishing a law firm, was. It gave them all hope and made them study hard in high school to get scholarships. Before they died, Aunt Marjory and Uncle Harry told them, "If you decide you don't want to practice law, you can always do something else, but at least it will give you a good base to do whatever you decide later and feed you."
Her parents dream was hers also, it made sense to her and she liked it. It was definitely one she planed to pursue, but she had no way of achieving until she retrenched and found a way to start all over again. Being married didn't help.
When she first took the job at Evans, along with her single next door neighbor lady, her life became in a very short time, like the old Johnny Paycheck song--the line where he sang--"Home folks think I'm big in Detroit City, by days I make the cars, by night I do the bars . . ." Then she decided she'd better make the best of the situation and started looking for ways to better her situation. First thing she did was go on nights which kept her out of the bars. She was a student, not a bar fly, she told herself. Not that she didn't behave herself, it was simply a life style that depressed her, one that made her think of things she was better off not thinking about at all.
* * * * * * *
Although the working conditions at the factory weren't the greatest, the pay was excellent and Melody soon became known among the bosses as welll as the workers.
It didn't take long before Tom spotted her and recommended she be made a "lead woman" on a fussy assembly line that had to be kept lint free with tacky cloths. She became instrumental in helping them keep their contract to Frigidaire--soon after that Tom let her know, that for someone like her, a person who was smart and had a good work ethic, there were plenty of opportunities for advancement.
Melody had worked in her dad's garage while in grade school and later helped him with his book keeping, so whether with her head or her hands, she lived up to her reputation of being was a "good worker." It made her feel especially proud that Tom, a stranger recognized it, someone who could open doors for her and help her escape the misery her old nanny warned her about life in Detroit.
"Girl," she'd warn, "you gotta go to college . . . but times are different now for young ladies . . . don't you end up without a pot to pee in . . . poor white trash, barefoot and pregnant . . . living on the wrong side of the tracks, with no chance to ever make it out."
* * * * * * *
No snob, Melody knew manual work was honorable, yet she couldn't quite bring herself to dress like the typical factory worker after reading a famous fashion designer's "How To Dress For Future Success," a book that advised those who wanted to get ahead, to dress for the position they wanted to GET, not the one for which they were HIRED.
The advice proved to work well for her and soon, not only Tom noticed, but the rest of the upper echelon did also. She not only played well any role she took on, but she looked the part, which impressed the roaming manufactures they subcontracted too. They'd look at her and each other as if to say, "What's someone like HER, doing on the assembly line?"
She took the big bosses by surprise. The union workers philosophy tended towards "dummying down" to the lowest common denominator, not on improving quality and production. Being self-motivated, the pace she set, made everyone have to work harder. No doubt about it, she was definitely a pain where the auto union was concerned, but a joy to management.
Melody's first reward came in her paycheck, the second, when Tom kept promoting her until she was off the factory floor and on the top one, working as an assistant editor for their in-house advertising and marketing department. They needed new blood and decided to give her a chance after looking at her aptitude tests in engineering, commercial art and writing.
The sudden advancement along with Tom's frequent visit to the top floor, soon made Melody and him grist for the gossip mill.
She ignored the rumors at first, confident her's and Tom's relationship was based on mutual respect, that she'd earned every penny, and in no way could anyone, dare assume she was the type of woman who slept her way to the top.
Finally, because of increasing rumors, she began going out of her way to be overly business like whenever Tom showed up, but he didn't do the same.
Instead of his normal sedate self, he lit up whenever she came into view and broke into a grin.
That he was so taken by Mandy, that he exuded so much warmth and charm in her presence, made everyone smile from the janitors to the top engineers. The tension was so thick somedays, that she felt if she were to announce she WAS having an affair with Tom, the entire company would break into applause.
Tom didn't seem to notice, or did he take her hints that his attentions were becoming embarrassing. Finally, one day she brought up the subject of "appearances."
Grinning ear to ear, he looked her directly in the eyes and said, "Darlin' I would be happy to explain my relationship with YOU anytime, anywhere, should anyone dare to ask, and actually, I would be flattered if they did. Melody, you're great in everyway, but you worry far too much."
* * * * * * *
Shortly after that, one Friday shortly before midnight, Melody told Tom she needed to get home early. They went out to the parking lot, only to find her car didn't start, so Tom had to drive her home.
"Tom, I'd love to talk a little longer with you but I'm afraid of what the neighbors might think."
"I want to visit with you too, Mandy. Let's just make it simple, I'll park a few blocks away so we can continue our talk."
What had been intended to be a few minutes, ended up being two hours.
Before they were done talking, she broke down and confessed how unhappy she was in her new marriage, how she was stuck for life in an impossible situation--a situation with no way out.
When she begin to cry, Tom put his arm around her to comfort her. Before long, they were hugging and kissing like teenagers on a first date.
He never touched her inappropriately and paid close attention to how she controlled his hands; she'd get real jumpy the minute he'd get near her breasts or by her upper legs.
Once he got the idea of what she would and wouldn't do, she relaxed and enjoyed the arousal she felt--didn't feel guilty about being so blissfully content and happy and in his arms.
She had a will of steel and used it keep her foot on the break peddle.
* * * * * * *
After that night, it was as if the flood gate had opened--they started meeting after work at other places, not only for Sam's Friday's Happy Hour. Once and while they'd meet for dinner on the weekend when Melody's husband was out of town.
She'd tell him she was working overtime and it couldn't be helped, later, she'd justify the lie by telling herself, the truth would make her life even more miserable, that since she could never escape the marriage, the wisest and kindest thing to do was lie.
* * * * * * *
At Christmas Tom surprised her with a poinsettia pillow case stashed full of gifts--toys and books and the "Ungame" that he'd loved so much as a child and wanted to play with her.
Every time they were together alone, he'd haul out some new little gift from his briefcase that made her begin to wonder now, how she'd ever get out the relationship with him.
Every so often, she'd dutifully remind him that SHE was married, that HE was married.
Eventually, she felt compelled to tell him that their relationship was beginning to bother her, that she simply could not do ANYTHING that either of them would ever have to feel guilty about.
Tom said, "I understand, I hear you, but as far as I'm concerned, I will go anywhere with you, anytime, and feel no remorse whatsoever. I love you Melody, and I always will."
"I love you too, but I can't go that far--BUT I will meet you halfway--let's spend a weekend, one weekend together and make it last us for the rest of our life, NO sex mind you, we could simply be in each others arms all night long, pretend to be lovers."
"Melody, are you really that naive? I don't know, maybe it would work. God only knows, I couldn't have done that as a younger man, but I think maybe now, it could work as you say. If it gets to much for me, I'll simply go back to my own room. I promise, I will never make you feel that you should do anything, you don't want to do."
* * * * * * *
Two weeks later on Valentines Day, Melody took the train north to meet Tom at a remote winter resort where it would be unlikely either of them would run into anyone they knew. They figured, if on the off chance they did, they'd lie their way out of the situation with various scenarios they had worked out in advance. He didn't need it for protection, but she felt she did.
Neither one of them believed in lying, but here they were doing it in the name of being practical, in the name of prevention. They both agreed--if it took a white lie, they'd do it because it was a better option than the truth--that living was better than feeling dead everyday.
* * * * * * * *
Tom drove his car hundreds of miles through snow covered roads, but all and all, it was a pleasant trip and he enjoyed every minute thinking about being alone at last with Melody, to be able to hold her all night long, maybe even more, but he wasn't counting on it. Instead he was determined to simply enjoy whatever happened.
For Melody, the trip itself was not as good. She got so sick from motion sickness on the train and jumped at every sound on the railroad track. She was afraid of being found out.
The train trip for her had been more filled with fear than romantic dreams, but when she saw him at the train station, all her woes vanished. Tom swooped her up in his arms and smothered her with kisses. She was immediately transported to the closest she'd ever been to heaven on earth.
That night they went for dinner and dancing on the tenth floor of the Landmark Hotel that overlooked Lake Michigan. There by soft candlelight, accompanied by a string quartet, they exchanged Valentine's Day gifts.
She gave him a light grey cashmere sweater with a coordinating silk tie that matched his thick head of silky grey hair and he gave her a grey wool pin-stripped executive heart shaped box of Godiva Chocolates with a round 24K gold coin charm tied on to the ribbon that said, "I'll always love you."
"Melody, that's why I asked you to bring your charm bracelet this weekend. We'll go downtown tomorrow and have it soldered on. I figure it is a small part of me you can always keep, no one will ever know, it came from me."
"I love it Tom. I'll be proud to wear it."
"Oh, and one more thing, here is the 'Melody of Love,' recording I made for you."
He couldn't resist telling her the story again--how he used to listen to Franklin McCormick on a popular Chicago Radio Station --how much he and millions of others loved Frank's "Torch" program that came on 11:59 every night.
"You would have loved it Melody, Wayne's music played background while Frank recited love poems--his rich deep voice rocked lovers across the nation to sleep with the sweet resonance of it all."
"Oh Tom, I know I would have--I love it all, will always cherish it."
"And Melody, I will always cherish you . . . tell me again why you have to stay in your unhappy marriage . . . why after this weekend we will never see each other again?"
Taking a sip of her wine, she looked over her glass and murmured, "Tom, are you sure you really want to know?"
Slipping his hand beneath the booth, he caressed her thighs without objection. She smiled, gazed into his eyes, and squeezed his free hand as her other hand lowered and rested upon his crotch like it had always belonged there.
Leaning over and kissing her, he let his hand slip between the silky black folds of her long wrap dress--discovered she was totally naked as far as his hand was able to feel. His fingertips marveled, lingered, at the incredible baby softness of the skin between her thighs.
Combined with her moistness it was more than he could take.
He quickly withdrew his hand to grab his Scotch for a quick sip--only to taste her--to catch her exotic scent from his trembling fingertips.
It wafted up his flared nostrils and made him suddenly want to mix his drinks, dribble his Scotch between the juncture of her thighs, stir lightly with his tongue into her herbal nectar, slurp it back up, breath it all in, blend perfectly with his Scotch-On-The Rocks.
"Melody, this is more than I can take. I want an answer from you, but let's dance first, if we don't, I'll have such a hard on we can't."
Taking her hand he led her to the dance floor.
When they embraced, her whole body was focused on where his body joined hers, the sweet rush of irresistible sensation that drew her to meet the rhythm of his hips.
Flushed, she tried to move back from his hardness, look away from his, "take no prisoners gaze."
But she couldn't help herself . . . she briefly met his eyes . . . looked down at his involuntary erection . . . then surrendered herself . . . subtle thrust by subtle thrust in an attempt to meet him halfway . . . try to control herself, not go overboard and make a total fool out of herself in front of bemused strangers.
"Look at me Melody, I want you to look at me, I want to see your eyes when you cum for me, right here on this crowded dance floor. . . . "
No sooner had he said it, and the first wave of an impending orgasm took hold of her and pulled her into it's fury. Her body arched and she clung to him as his hot body and the sultry music drove her into the vortex of mind-numbing pleasure. She opened her mouth as he kissed her and she let him know, "Oh my love, it'd be so good with us, it'd be so good. . . sooo very good. . . ."
"I know baby, I know," he said breathlessly kneading her beautiful heart-shaped bottom. This time, he was struggling not to lose control.
Melody's and Tom's bodies continued to mesh while the nearby string quartet looked away and grinned knowingly at each other--braced themselves so as not to break tempo--in air thickened and charged with pheromones from the May to December couple too much in lust to even notice.
But dancing over close to the quartet, despite the players resolve, tempo WAS broken when they heard Melody say, "Oh, baby, I want you to make love to me . . . more than anything I've ever wanted in my life."
To Be Continued: Melody Of Love: Part 2