The Bra Salesman Ch. 10

"Huh? Why am I on the floor?" Brittney says, "and why do I have the taste of cum in my mouth?" Shit, what just happened? I didn't snap or anything. Did I clap my hands? Did I make some other noise that was enough to bring her out? Maybe I... doesn't matter. She's awake and she doesn't look happy.

"Neitzsche-esque!" And again that one word relaxes her face and body and the empty look in her eyes returned. Shit, I have no idea what I'm doing or how many times I can do this before it doesn't work anymore. Or I give her brain damage so badly she'll start listening to Josh Groban and enjoy it. I need to just wrap this up.

"Ok. I'm going to leave now. Five seconds after I leave, you are going to put your clothes back on and wake up. You will not remember this conversation or that I was even here just now. Then you are going to go to work tomorrow and do all your normal routines. And when Dave knocks on your door tomorrow after work, you will beg him to handcuff you and let him do whatever he wants to do." And with that, I get up off the couch feeling better than I have for many, many days.

I am half walking and half dancing across her apartment as I take several deep breaths that feel like freedom filling my lungs, or at least what I imagine freedom feels like. As if freedom could come in some vaporized aerosol that one could inhale, maybe in a variety of flavors. Liberty Lemon. Independence Fruit. Gimme Liberty or Gimme Berry. I am so high on life right now that not only am I coming up with ridiculously stupid ideas for a nonsense product, I can actually use a phrase like "high on life" and not puke on myself in disgust. I finally know that tomorrow is actually going to be a better day that I am actually looking forward to living, which to me means a day that involves my putting my stiff cock into Tasha's gorgeous body. Who knew I could be such a hopeless romantic, right? I open the front door, snap my fingers, and then close the door behind me.