Chapter Four
They awoke tangled together, their bodies positioned precariously on the edge of the couch. They sat up groggily, though it was clear that Lewis was in a much more delicate state. He clutched his head desperately, trying to curtail the all-encompassing brain fog that was clouding his every thought. Maxie offered a sympathetic frown for his troubles.
A few minutes had gone by before Lewis acknowledged what had happened the night prior.
"Did we...?" he started.
Maxie nodded her head. She was staring forward into nothingness, her lips slightly ajar. Despite her response, she seemed vacant.
"And you're okay about it now?"
The question from Lewis broke her daze, and she turned towards him with a concerned nod.
"Absolutely, Lew. I just hope you're okay too," she said, reaching for his hand. "It wasn't too much, was it?"
"I mean, I was the one getting sucked off, right?" He smirked. "I was having a great time."
The levity of his response caused her to laugh, and all the concern in the room dispersed. Maxie embraced Lewis, cuddling into his side and squeezing him affectionately. He returned the gesture, holding her tight.
After separating, Maxie raised herself off the couch and started to pace the living room. Lewis figured she was about to launch into a thoughtful monologue, processing what had happened the night prior, and he was not disappointed.
"After you orgasmed, and I swallowed some of your cum, I had the exact same feeling as I had at the party last weekend," she explained. "I was horny, and flushed, and felt really...
good
, you know?"
Lewis cocked his head, slightly confused. She hadn't drunk anything the night before, and why was she mentioning his cum...?
It was at this point that he realised Maxie was amending her "spiked drink" theory, but whatever hypothesis she was pivoting to seemed doubly outlandish.
"What are you suggesting?" he asked, cautiously.
She paused, her confidence faltering. She sat back down next to him, and stared at the ground.
"I've got an idea," she disclosed. "But I think we need to test its validity one more time. We've got to be sure that this isn't just in our heads."
"In
your
head, specifically," he corrected her, with a wry grin.
She hit his arm playfully, now smiling.
"Well, don't you think
something
weird is going on?" she asked.
"Totally, but I don't want to jump to any conclusions."
"Exactly! That's why we've got to do one more experiment before we can be sure that my theory is accurate."
He rolled his eyes dramatically and started to get dressed. It was as he was putting his clothes back on that he seemed to realise that Maxie was still naked. She stayed seated on the couch, thinking intently, her arms crossed underneath her breasts, exhibiting them alluringly. When she looked up and noticed Lewis staring, she shook her chest at him flirtatiously.
"Take a good, long look; they're about to go away for the rest of the day!" she chuckled.
He snickered, before directing his eyes elsewhere.
"I think I'm gonna go home now, if that's alright?" he asked.
She got up to her feet and kissed him lightly on the tip of his nose.
"Of course. I'll see you at work, okay?" she said.
He stood there, befuddled for a moment, before nodding and heading out.
She's so goddamn cute
, he thought. He had inexplicably ended up with the best of both worlds; his crush had sucked his balls dry the night prior, with a fervour he had never experienced before, and yet, their behaviour around one another that morning had indicated that they were still good friends. There was none of the awkwardness that Lewis generally felt the morning after sleeping with someone. Once they'd made sure they were both feeling okay, all of the tension in the room had dissipated.
How the fuck did I luck into this shit?
It was Monday evening, 6:30pm, and both Lewis and Maxie had just started their shifts. As expected, the bar was deserted; the projectors littered around the drinking space showing every sport known to man were carrying out their duties for an absent audience. The gaming room and the smoking area were the only spaces with signs of life, and the patrons belonging to these sections of the venue were not concerned with the pub's attendants.
Lewis and Maxie would typically be accompanied by Marcelo at this time of night, but their stoner coworker had called in sick, much to their delight. They didn't hate him or anything, but they did have important things to discuss that evening that were best done without Marcelo skulking around, trying to interject himself into conversations. And besides, they didn't need him on a night like this, when it was so quiet. He'd just be wiping the same tables the whole shift.
With so little to do, Lewis and Maxie were at the front bar, spurning their nightly duties for the meantime so as to discuss an important topic.
"So, what's our last experiment? What do we have to do?" Lewis asked.
"It's something I think you'll like," she told him, smirking.
"Any clues for me then?"
"Well, what do we usually do on Mondays?"
"We do a little bit of stocktake? We clean everything... it's generally a pretty quiet night, so we don't serve many patrons."
"But who
do
we serve on Mondays?"
A light bulb in Lewis's head suddenly burst to life.
"Phoebe and her friends," he realised.