I am trying to branch out into other categories. Trying to stretch as a writer, I rush foolishly into the abyss. Danger you say, I laugh at danger. Sorry, it is so hard to be original. With the massive amounts of fiction already created. I do try at least. This is only for fun anyway. I am just an amateur writer and most readers here are very forgiving. A fact for which I am most grateful, it is a haven from the overcritical world we now live in. This site is one of the last vestiges of sanity in an insane world. Someday I hope to be as good as some of the great writers that publish on this site. Thanks for your patience until then. I can only hope my stories are as fun to read as they are to write. This purely fiction any correlation to any real people is purely happenstance.
***************
I was peddling the line of cosmetics that I had concocted. I was a chemist and had discovered a root from the Brazilian rain forest that not only smelled fantastic, but it had many other unusual properties. It was a wonder compound. After years of research with the root I had success. I remember feeling akin to Edison and the light bulb, when I finally had the break through.
I had traveled to Brazil in 2014 to try to help a friend to diagnose an unknown tree disease in the rainforest. It turned out to be caused by the trails left by a large toxic snail. The snail's only defense was its toxicity. The snail left an arsenic acid easily taken up into the tree through the roots. Not that big of a deal before man's widespread deforestation. Now that every remaining tree is so precious, action needed to be taken. We found that the soil of the snail's valley of origin in the rainforest was more alkaline and naturally negated the problem. Even though the snail was still toxic but the soil negated the trails immediately. The only issue was that valley had been clear-cut. I was able to find the plant that caused the other valley's alkalinity and it was planted to negate the snail problem, a natural solution to a natural problem. This solved the tree dying issue. It was then that I found the Bunigaila root a plant the size of a large potato that looked like a dinner bun. I named it as sort of a joke. I the word used to represent me. Gaila is Scottish for Joy and bun for what it looked like. Happy I found this bun.
This undiscovered plant both ensured my name in the annuals of science and was the raw material for my cosmetics. The compound greatly enhanced weight loss and it was quite an aphrodisiac. It also enhanced suggestibility to people who are prone to hypnosis. I called this extract of the Bunigaila root Pleasure. I had boiled it in water and due to its high sugar content it distilled in to a fragrant alcohol. The alcohol was first poisonous like wood alcohol is, but then some of the root accidently molded. The mold was oddly red. Once moldy the distilled product was safe alcohol and the fragrance was even more appealing. The water content of the mash was critical to the proper distill. Then I let the alcohol marinate some of the raw unmolded root for 72 hours here to proportions were everything and once ground to a fine puree it then was a finished base product.
I named the base product Pleasure. The base product was essentially useless until mixed with other ingredients. I needed mix it with other ingredients to make viable products. Mixing with coconut butter created a face cream that tightened wrinkles and left someone looking years younger. Coconut butter and coffee combined with the base removed cellulite and toned the body. Lavender and Shea butter and the base were capable firming loose skin under the arms due to aging. Mixed with citrus acid the base became a safe effective and permanent hair remover. Mixing Jasmine into the just the distilled alcohol made an irresistible perfume. Other substances brought out other properties. After several years of research and experimentation my product line was finally ready. Of course the exact origin of the root and ratios of the mixtures are most proprietary. My lab was in the Mare Island industrial area (rent being reasonable), but there was not enough of the right clientele in that part of the bay.
It was about 1:30 in the afternoon. I only wanted to sell my products to a chosen clientele, due to the scarcity of the raw material and another important reason. I was trying to sell it in Marin County today, a hard feat because the police are likely to discourage soliciting. You certainly cannot go door to door. I had gone to the local Mill Valley Market to try to find a lead. I was looking for someone well fixed financially and at least 50 years old. A woman pulled up in a new Mercedes. The tree lined parking lot was of the market was small perhaps 16 cars. She was about 55 years old. Her auburn hair was shoulder length. She got out and went into the store. I followed her in, picking up a red plastic carry basket from the stack. She was attractive, yet age had taken its toll on her face.
Her jowls were just beginning to sag and she had visible crow's feet. Her forehead was showing visible wrinkles. Her neck truly showed her age. She wore glasses and they fit her, they made her look sexy.
The nerd part of me had a thing for librarians.
She had a good figure for her age as if she belonged to a gym. She was small chested and probably was once a runner. She was dressed in Dior original blouse and skirt and Brunei shoes. I thought
I had found a perfect candidate.
I was dressed in my only remaining Italian suit a Brioni and wore Italian Alden shoes. If you wanted to sell anything here you better look successful. The light grey material looked good on my athletic build. It was summer and the suit was light weight and breathed well. I loved tennis and it kept me in good shape. I looked 30 years old. She was in the euro shelved bread isle. I walked up to her.
"Do you have any recommendations for a good bread to go with pasta?" I asked her smiling.
Only to test what kind of personality she had.
"This organic sourdough is wonderful with garlic and olive oil," she said with a friendly smile. Her teeth were nice and straight and white. I smiled back, mostly because her smile was infectious.
"Thanks, I never shopped at this market before," I said.
"I don't mind helping you learn your way around," she said
.
"Thanks, my name is Terrance," I said as I gave her my business card.
She read the card "Terrance Grier CEO New life cosmetics," aloud.
"Pleased to meet you I am Constance," she said.
"It is very nice to meet you. If I could trouble you with some other suggestions, I really don't want to be an imposition?" I said.
"No it is no trouble. I never heard of your company," she said. She seemed a genuinely friendly person.
"We are new. It is a marvelous line. I will give you a sample when I get back to my car," I said.
"Okay, what is on your list?" she asked
"I was thinking about lamb chops. Are they good here?" I asked.
"Yes, I thought you were buying pasta?" she said.
"The pasta would be on the side of course," I said.
"Are you a good cook?" she asked.
"Yes, I am," I said.
She put several items into her cart as she led me the meat counter. I followed walking behind her, her bottom looked sexy despite her age.
"Hi George this is Terrence he would like some lamb chops," she said.
"Hello Terrence, hello Mrs. Johnston, how many?" George the butcher asked.
"Four please," I said.
"I don't want to keep you from Mr. Johnston," I said to Constance
"That bastard is on to his new Trophy wife," Constance said.
"I am sorry, his mistake," I said.
"Thanks, but I don't look as young as I used to," she said.
"You are still lovely," I said. She smiled.
"They weigh about one pound each, 4 pounds total," George said as he wrote the weight and price per pound on the white butcher paper wrapping.
"Thank you George, that is all for me," I said.
"I would like two pounds of ground beef, two fillet mignons, and a good pork roast George," Constance said. George handed her three neatly wrapped white packages to Constance.
Soon she had finished her long list and I had my five items, including the bottle of Merlot she suggested. My items were lamb chops, organic pasta, organic pasta sauce, bread and the Merlot. We walked out of the store and I led her to my Porsche and took out a sample bottle.
"This is our Jasmine based perfume," I said. I sprayed a little on her wrist. She smelled the fragrance and her eyes glazed over.
The perfume was subtle, it did not overpower anyone, but it was effective.
"Do you like the smell?" I asked.
"Yes and it makes me tingle all over," Constance said.
"I am afraid it is quite the aphrodisiac," I said. She nodded and fidgeted as the sensations took over her body.
"You like the feelings, don't you?" I asked.
"Yes, it makes me very wet," she said.
It also caused people to behave with uncontrollable candor.
"Constance, do you want me to show you the whole line?" I asked.
"Yes, Terrence," she said.
"Good, let us put your groceries in your car and then you can lead me to your place," I said.
"Yes Terrence, that sounds wonderful," she said. We put her groceries into her Mercedes trunk and we both got into our cars.
She backed out of her space and pulled up to the street and waited for me. I got behind her and we were off. She turned up to go into the exclusive hills. I followed and soon she pulled up to an ornate gate blocking a driveway.
I was glad I had GPS because there were a number of turns and there was no way I could easily find my way out when I left
.
These hills are confusing I wasn't even sure we were still in Mill Valley.
She used a remote and the gate swung open. I followed her in. Her estate was well back from the road and surrounded by trees. It was quite secluded from the neighbors. The house was styled after a Tudor Mansion and was huge. We unloaded the car into the kitchen.
"With a house like this, I would expect servants," I said.
"I could afford them full time, but I use a maid only two days a week. I don't mind living alone," she said.
We were standing in the kitchen I had my small bag of groceries from my car. Her kitchen was large and newly remodeled. It had tan stone counters and custom cabinetry. The refrigerator was hidden behind cabinet facing. The motif was Tuscan and it fit the Tudor style house well. It had become kind of California trend to have an amazing kitchen, even though most people worked so much they hardly made use of it.
"Can I put my lamb chops into your fridge?" I asked.
"You can put your meat anywhere you want," she said.
The perfume was obviously affecting her still.
"Thank you, I will go get my product case I have much more to show you," I said.
I left and came back with the black leather case. We sat at her kitchen table. I opened my product case that was about the size of carryon luggage.
"This New life face restoration cream is quite good. May I put some on your face?" I said.
"Yes," she said and she removed her glasses. I reached over and rubbed some on her face and neck. I was careful not to get any on her eyebrows or on her hair.
It had a negative effect on any hair.
"It takes a few minutes to work," I said. I washed it off my hands. Her face was white with the cream.
"I feel it working," she said.
"It will make your face look 15 to twenty years younger," I said.
"It makes me horny," she said.
That is why I call the base compound Pleasure.
"It also makes you very susceptible to suggestion. A side effect that makes the product unsuitable for mass marketing," I said.
"It must be expensive," she said.
We waited about 7 minutes. The cream had been totally absorbed by her skin. It worked well on her. She now looked 30 years old. The crow's feet were gone and her jowls were firm. Her forehead was wrinkle free. The loose skin on her neck was tight and wrinkle free.
