GITJ Post 341: A Saturday at Melissa's, p16 (Midnight)

Melissa Monroe, aka Missy to her friends, aka Melissssy to her followers, aka Subject MM-1A to anyone that really mattered, lay on her bed as the weird clock of her mother’s struck 12 downstairs. Idly her fingers traced little circles on the pale, sunken chest of her sleeping boss, adorable new boyfriend and greatest love of her life. Midnight, witching hour, she mused, giggling to herself and biting her lower lip.

Her friend Shanette had just left, after sharing in his last climax against Melissa’s thigh and snuggling with them both for a bit. His seed - what was left of it - had nearly dried on her leg and Melissa actually considered maybe urging another serving from him, even as he slept. No, he needs his rest now, she decided, in an uncharacteristically mature and sensibly judicious moment. The girls, of course, would love it if she pulled more climaxes out of him, gain a little more of that blissful change, the ‘after- grow’ or “The Blissy Effect” like they’d starting calling the rapture they all felt after the couple’s coitus’. But, she realized even he had his limits. For now. He’d been getting better and better at this since they’d been together, but she realized the last one actually caused him a little pain. He might be sore in the morning, she thought, poor little guy. “But I’ll make you a nice breakfast,” she said to him, even as he slept, and then giggled again to herself as she pictured a Sunday morning together. She loved these little moments of domestic bliss, quiet times with him.

On the nightstand her phone buzzed, a text. She reached for it: Shanette, checking in, saying bye. She’d gone to check on things downstairs and it sounded like most of the girls were packing up, getting changed, and heading out. A few would be spending the night on the couches. Randi in particular wanted to wait to see if Marisela would be dropping in; she’d explained the feeling she was getting that something was wrong in another text. That girl, Marisela, worried Randi a bit. She’s just out having fun, Melissa typed back, I felt it just a few minutes ago.

As she finished with her messages Melissa’s eyes looked away from the phone to the figure next to her left tit. He had just turned a little in his sleep to embrace it, and nuzzled a little closer. He’d fallen asleep with his face against it, nipple in his mouth. His lips had since drifted away but now to her delight he was really snuggling in to it. It appeared that he was actually trying to fight waking up which amused her…or maybe he was having a dream. Yes, that’s it, you’re dreaming, she realized in a sudden moment of strange clarity, I can almost see it…but not quite, honey.  “Well, I hope you’re dreaming of me,” she giggled, and reached over him to put her phone back down. You are dreaming about me, she thought, as she looked down at him and petted his tousled hair.  I wonder what size I am.

Just then, a cat jumped onto the bed.

“Tiger!!” Melissa exclaimed, laughing at its sudden appearance, “Don’t scare me like that!!”

The cat, a  tabby of jade-green eyes and sour expression had leapt in behind him, and now stood on the pillows just above his head. Nonplussed, it looked at Melissa, looked down at Jay, and meowed loudly.

“Oh shush you’ll wake him up!” Melissa scolded, as the cat cocked its head and coolly regarded the man sleeping in her bed. ‘Tiger’ had been an erstwhile companion of Melissa’s for several years now, spending time occasionally with her at her clinic apartment at Evolution and now gracing her with its presence since she’d moved into her mom’s place. She liked to think the kitty loved and respected her but at times she wasn’t too sure. At times ‘Tiger’ seemed a little judgy.

“Awwww you don't like him, do you?” Melissa giggled, scrubbing the cat between its fuzzy little ears. Despite what it would say if it could talk, she knew she liked head pets. “You think I spend too much time with him, huh?"

As if in conversation, the cat meowed again.

“Well, I think he’s cute!” Melissa responded, “And he’s nice to me. Plus, I don’t have to clean his litter box, unlike some people around here.”

That brought an argumentative little growl from ‘Tiger’.

“Well, I don’t care what you think!” Melissa laughed, not really realizing that to anyone else who might be watching she was seemingly having a conversation with a tabby cat. They might remind her that she’d again forgotten to take her meds. “You and mother both get so worried!" she complained.

Melissa rubbed her hand down the cat’s back, which arched in appreciative response. You like that too haha, she thought, you can’t help it.

The cat looked Melissa in the eyes, and blinked slowly.

“Yes yes yes I love you too...and I promise I'll be careful,” Melissa conceded, “And I think you'll love him too when you get to know him.”

At that, the cat purred and turned around in a little cat-circle. Melissa regarded it, and giggled again. “You were watching us tonight weren't you?" she chuckled, now using her fingers to stroke the hair of her shrunken lover, face still nuzzled into her big breast. The cat meowed, as if a response. “You naughty kitty!” she said, with amused ire, “Can’t we have any privacy!”

At that, the cat turned and looked at Melissa, looked at the man in her bed.

“Now, shoo!” Melissa finally scolded, waving the cat away with a waggle of her hand, “If he wakes up and sees me talking to you he’s gonna think I’m a crazy cat lady!”

As if on command but of course only by its own volition, ‘Tiger’ casually stepped to the nightstand and jumped down, pitter-patting its way across the floor and out of the room. There were other people here to spy on, probably, or her friends.

Melissa looked back down at him, her sleeping little charge snuggled against her chest. His eyes moved beneath closed lids, and she smiled in warm affection. Are you still with your face on my breasts in your dreams? She stroked his cheek, and then lifted the flap of her thin waffle-weave robe and wrapped it around the back of his head, to hold him more closely to her, to keep him warm. Or maybe it’s between them, maybe your head is between my breasts in your dreams, she thought, as she palmed him now through the robe, maybe you’re between them, your whole little body.

The thought brought a new wetness between her legs, and she giggled to herself. He seemed to rustle in his sleep a bit, an adorable little wrinkle of consternation on his slumbering brow.

“It’s okay. You can dream big, Jay,” she whispered, as her hand now slid down to idly stroke his again-swollen cock, “Dream really big.”

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Editing and inspiration credit again to ResistanceIsFutile. What a help he’s been.