Black Cat Ch. 08

When I opened my eyes at 7:00 the sun was shining, the birds were chirping and I gotta take a piss. After I extracted my cock from Brenna's hand I got out of bed, took two steps towards the bathroom and stubbed a toe on the bed frame like I usually did most mornings. Cursing and promising myself for the thousandth time to rearrange the bedroom I limped to the master bathroom and relieved myself. I sniffed my armpit to see if I needed to take a shower and found the scent of my antiperspirant. Puzzled, I checked the towel that hung on the towel rack; it was wet. That made me even more puzzled and confused. I walked to the side of the bed on which Brenna's laying and asked her, "Hey, Brenna, did you give me a shower last night?"

She waved a hand in my general direction, "Go away...you kept me up all night."

"I did?"

"Yeah...made me suck you while you read..." she said and snorred.

None of this made any sense. Nothing usually made sense until I had a cup of coffee so I started towards the kitchen. When I'm at the hallway bathroom's door, I knocked and opened it. A mass of tentacles flowed out of the tub and onto the floor. "Hey, Art. You doing ok?" Something that was an approximation of a human hand came out of the water and gave a thumbs up. "You need anything?" The hand made a loose fist and shook like a human would shake their head to say 'no'. "Let me know if you do, ok?" The hand nodded and sunk back into the water.

I yawned and made my way into the kitchen without any more stubbed toes and started a pot of coffee without opening my eyes. I leaned against the counter as the coffee maker bubbled and sputtered. When it clicked from the 'making coffee' mode to the 'trying to keep it hot for the rest of the day' mode I grabbed a mug and poured myself some elixir of life. I took a sip and let the caffeine molecules do their stuff. When I felt more awake I opened my eyes and saw a post-it note on the coffee maker. I pulled it off and read it; "Now that I'm awake check out the books K gave us." I swallowed a mouthful of coffee, set down the mug and rolled my eyes. It was too early in the morning for split personality crap. I staggered to the main room and realized all the furniture was back in its proper place except for my duffel bag. I left it by the front door, but now it was by the La-Z-Boy recliner. I sat down in my favorite chair and opened the bag. Right on the top were the books. The first book had a post-it note that read, "Open this to the bookmark." I sighed and opened the book to the bookmarked page. On that page were the last chapter's study questions. I read the first question and immediately knew the answer.

"Wha the fuck?" I muttered. I opened the second book, scanned the table of contents and found the last chapter. I flipped the pages to that chapter's questions and read them. The answers to each question popped into my consciousness as soon as I saw the sentence's question mark. The same thing happened with the third book. Did I stay up all night and cram for my new job? I flipped the back cover of the book to close it. On that back cover is another post-it note. This one simply said, "You're welcome."

I dug through the rest of the duffel. I found the socks, shorts and the Superman shirt Steve gave me all clean. Keena must have grabbed the shirt off the dumbbell rack after I...

My ringing phone in the duffle bag broke my self reflection. I rummaged around in the bag until I found the phone. By the time I lifted the phone to my ear the caller had hung up. Grumbling, I unlocked my phone and saw that I had more phone calls and text messages than normal. I opened the text app and tapped on the unknown number at the top of the list. The messages read;

Saturday 9:57 PM: "Hi. Debra gave me this number. Is this REALLY your dick?"

Saturday 10:05 PM: "That's gotta be fake. You prob have a little pencil dick."

Saturday 11:18 PM: "OMG! Debra called and told me how you fucked her. We have to meet."

Sunday 12:03 AM: "I need to see you."

Sunday 12:14 AM: "Please answer! I need a good hard fuck!"

The next twenty messages devolved from that last message into the stereotypical desperation of an under-sexed housewife. The message stream ended with a short video of a nude petite woman with 36C tits and a tight core fingering her pussy and begging me for my cock. She included her address.

I smirked and put the phone on 'do not disturb'. Let her stew in her own wet pussy for a while. I needed to plan how I was going to destroy her, her husband and make everything theirs mine.