Wake up to breakfast

You wake up, and Melissa is not next to you, so you get up and throw your robe on. Following your nose, you see her completely dressed, fixing you pancakes and bacon. “Damn, it smells good in here,” you say.

“Well, it wouldn't do to send my man to work on an empty stomach, now would it?” she asks with a sly smile.

“No, it wouldn't, babe,” you agree as she puts the food in front of you. You realize that she made your favorite kind of pancakes, with chocolate chips in them. Crawling up under the table, she takes your cock into her mouth, swirling her tongue around, softly kissing every inch before she does. After about 30 seconds, she pulls back and says “Now remember who you're coming home to.”

“Damn,” you think to yourself. “A blowjob would be the best way to start the day off.” She looks up at you as if to anticipate your thoughts and says “We can have more fun tonight.”

“Okay,” you agree reluctantly, and finish your breakfast. You jump in the shower, thinking about last night, remembering how wonderful it was to make love instead of just fuck, and cuddle someone you plan to stay with for a while. Getting out, you realize you're still hard, and hope that it goes down by the time you have to go to work.

You come over to Melissa, who's just finishing breakfast dishes, wrap your arms around her and kiss the back of her neck. “Mmmmm,” she coos, “better stop that or you'll be late.”

“And the problem with that is?” you ask, gently squeezing her breasts.

“Nothing except loss of pay,” she mentions.

You take your arms from around her. Spinning around, she kisses you, sliding her tongue into your mouth, probing your tonsils. After a long moment, she breaks the kiss and says, “Wow. You better go now before you can't.”

Slowly, you get in your car and drive to work. “Damn, this is going to be a long day,” you think to yourself as you drive the car away.

About 5 minutes away from work, your cell phone beeps, scaring the living shit out of you. You read the message from Melissa: “OMG! IWUIM!” When you get to work, it finally dawns on you what she's saying, and you text back: “and IWUWAM!” You go in, get to work and try to concentrate on your job. Your boss notices and asks you why you're doing such crappy work.

“My mind is still focused on last night,” you say.

“Well, damn, it must have been good,” he says. “I haven't got a good lick of work out of you yet today!”

You finally make it through the day, and a woman is sitting by her car crying. “What's the problem?” you ask, then you notice the front left tire is flat. “Duh, I can fix it for you if you want,” you offer.

“I don't have any money,” she mumbles.

“I never said anything about money,” you state. “Do you want me to help you?”

“Sure,” she says as she opens the trunk.

“My name's Jennifer,” she said, “And you are?”

“Steve,” you state as you take a closer look at Jennifer. She has brown, shoulder length hair, stands about 5'8”, and is wearing a light blue tank top with spaghetti straps and matching blue jeans.

“Well?” she says. “I can pay you in other ways.”

“I don't think that will be necessary,” you say as you jack her car up and take the tire off. Putting the spare back on, you lower her car, and tell her to have a nice day.

She grabs you and tries to kiss you, but you push her away.

“What's wrong, Steve? Don't you find me attractive?” she asks.

“Well, yes I do, but I have a girlfriend,” you say.

“She doesn't have to know,” she says.

“Well, if you insist upon doing this,” you say, “I will let her know.” You start to walk away, and she grabs your hand.

“Please don't say a word to Melissa about this,” she says.

“Trust me, I will,” you state plainly. “Wait a minute.. How do you know my girlfriend's name?”

“Well, duh, look at your clipboard when you go in tomorrow,” she says.

You call Melissa and tell her you're on your way, that you had to help a lady change her tire.

Arriving home, she's sitting on the front porch waiting for you with a pissed off look in her eyes.

“What?” you ask.

“Don't you what me, mister,” she says angrily. “You KNOW what.”

“I helped a lady change her tire. That's all,” you state.

“What else did you help her do?” she asked suspiciously.

“Nothing,” you state flatly.

“Uh huh,” she retorts, “I know men, and I'm willing to bet you accepted some form of payment in return.”

“Melissa, I told you, I changed her tire. Nothing more happened. She tried, but I told her I had a girlfriend,” you reply, getting somewhat irritated with the conversation.

“Yeah, sure, I bet you lubricated her insides afterward. Or maybe you fed the bitch some protein,” she says sarcastically.

“It's obvious this is going nowhere,” you say, “I'll be in my room until you decide whether to believe me or not. I'll bring the bitch home if you want me to so you can ask HER!”

You go inside, go straight to your room and slam the door. Melissa tries to call your cell phone, but you don't answer. She texts you, but you refuse to read them. You get into your bed and lay down and go to sleep. The next morning, you find Melissa sitting at the table still awake. By the puffiness of her eyes, it's obvious she's been crying.

“I'm sorry, Steve,” she says, “Too many men have cheated on me in the past, and I started having flashbacks of the same thing happening with you.”