Chapter 2

“So, how was it?” Sabra asked.

“Not a fan,” I said, still sucking wind, trying to be kind. My voice sounded rock star breathless.

“It would help me if you were more precise. Describe the texture, the feel, and any latent effects,” Sabra directed.

I was trying not to think about it.

“Any inclinations towards your mother?” Loxy asked.

“Uh?” Then I thought Freud. “Oh! God, no. This drink better not open that fucking door.”

A fairly attractive female arrived at our table, professionally dressed in a suit, the skirt hitting her knees, simple pumps but matching the overall intended effect, and a guy’s jacket. It was so professional it could have been construed as a stripper delivery card, and I began to wonder are they trying to secretly celebrate my birthday. They couldn’t even tell you when my birthday was, because I had no clue about time, since I had pretty much given up all sense of space/time since entering the University. Her pumps were just high enough in the heel to accentuate her calves. My eyes stayed there.

“We’re not open till 11,” Sabra was saying. This breakfast was strictly a family affair. Technically, this was adopted family- my lady friends and the misplaced, Chinese sorcerer who’s only joy in life was to irritate me. He was really good at it, too.

“Look, I think it’s having an effect,” Fersia said.

“How can you tell,” Lester asked, looking at me. “That seems like his usual ogling mode?”

I wasn’t ogling! She was obstructing my vision, but I couldn’t seem to get the remark out.

“I’m looking for Jon Harister,” the woman said.

I managed to get my eyes up to her breast. You could tell there were breast there, but they were well concealed. Again, everyone put a finger to their nose, but me. The woman frowned. She addressed me silently, holding an envelope out for me to collect.

“I have something for you,” the woman said when I didn’t take it.

“A lap dance?” I asked.

Fersia covered her mouth.

“Excuse me?” the woman asked.

“No excuse necessary,” I said. “May I purchase a vial of your bathwater?”

“Are you drunk, Sir, or always this rude?” the woman asked.

“I’m Loxy,” Loxy took over. “Perhaps I can help?”

“I need to hand this to Jon Harister,” the woman said.

“A hand job, excellent idea,” I said.

“Are you Jon?!” she asked.

“Am I getting a hand job?” I asked.

“Maybe a bit high on the Freud,” Sabra said.

“You think?” Loxy asked.

“Are you Jon?” the woman asked me again.

“Depends on what you’re giving me? Herpes?” I asked.

“OMG,” she said.

“Oh, fuck it, doesn’t matter, just park your ass right here,” I offered.

“My name is Sam…” she began.

“Sam!” I sang. “I am Sam, Sam I am, I would, I could, here, there, anywhere, in a house, with a mouse…”

Fersia was laughing hysterically. I think everyone else was amused. Except the woman. She thrust the envelope at me again.

“Take it,” Sam said.

“I’m not accepting anything from you until I am satisfied,” I declared.

“I fucking hate sorcerers,” Sam mumbled, sitting on my lap. She began to grind, reluctantly, but with sufficient force that it suggested she knew how to work it and intended to accelerate the process in order to be done. There was no affection in it at all. “How’s that?”

“Don’t grind angry,” I said, paraphrasing Groundhog Day. I was dropping into a song: “But it’s the pelvic thrusts that really drive you insane…”

“I think he is about to do a spell,” Keera said.

Fersia eyes had closed, and she was gyrating her hips slowly in her chair, mouthing “Let’s do the time warp again…”

“Oh, that’s just the drink,” Sabra said.

“Maybe a bit high on the Jung,” Loxy said. “You’re going to need a third ingredient to mitigate the feud between Freud and Jung.”

“I didn’t think about that, but yeah,” Sabra said.

“Jung, collective unconscious,” Lester said. “Shit! Are you saying that drink could have an effect on anyone in proximity?”

“Well, yeah, that’s the whole point of the drink,” Sabra said. “Some people don’t like to drink, but they are curious about how it feels, hence the name ‘Freud-Jung Bridge.’ I thought you understood that,” Sabra said.

“Is that why I am thinking this is all pretty hot,” Esfir asked, unbuttoning the top of her blouse.

“You can be more aggressive now,” I told Sam. And that was not sarcasm. She reached under herself and unfastened my belt and pants, exposing the mini magician. In doing so, I saw her hose was held by garter belts.

“Fuck me,” Lester said, departing the table as if a nuclear bomb was about to be set off with only minutes left allowing him to get to minimum safe distance.

“You can’t out run this,” Loxy shouted after him.

“I am sure he has enough blocks he won’t be affected,” Keera said.

“OMG” Fersia said, coming to the edge of her seat.

Sabra looked up to the left, gripping the arms of her seat, closing her eyes. Esfir was melting into her seat, licking her lips. To keep from falling out of the seat, she braced her bare feet against the table stand, clearly visible through the clear table top, and almost all the way to crotch, but her hands went there. Samantha moaned, with sudden acceptance and enthusiasm. She reached under and peeled the underwear to the side and took me inside her. She lay her breast on the table, the left side of the face smashed into the glass, and with arms out-stretched, she gripped the table hard, pushing her pelvis into me with such force I feared my chair might topple if I didn’t lean into her.

“Are you all feeling this?” Keera asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Loxy said, her eyes locked on me.

They were all suddenly compelled to put their hands on the table, leaning forwards in their chairs. The table lifted as if we were summoning spirits in a séance, with Sam weighing the table down on her end. We all came at once, and as the affects settled, the table landed hard. Each item on the table landed out of sync with a clatter, but nothing was spilled. Everyone rested their heads on the table, exhausted, except me. I lay my head on the back of Sam’s neck, hugging her to me. She came off the table enough for me to have an idea of her breast, as her clothes were now disheveled even though I didn’t grope at all during, but was now getting a feel. She sighed, peeled my hands off her breast, and put them on the table. Loxy’s hand found mine, and she held it and squeezed, reassuringly.

“I think that drink was a success,” Sabra said.

“Oh, yeah,” they all agreed.

“Damn it!” Lester’s voice echoed in the distance, magically delivered due to his being enmeshed with the group.

Everyone at the table began to laugh uncontrollably. Even Sam couldn’t help but laugh, and it was a deep, genuine laugh that moved her belly and still being inside her I could feel it like a light.

I, as if waking from a dream, found myself with a stranger on my lap, and I inside her still. “What just happened?” I asked.

Samantha peeled her hands from the table, put the envelope in my hand, stood, adjusted her underwear, then her skirt, and shivered. “You’ve been served,” she said, and walked away.

“Who was that?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Loxy said, her head still on the table, her eyes closed.

“I don’t care,” Keera said.

“Give him another drink,” Fersia said.