A Post Opp’s Devolution — Part 8

As the drinks flowed, the hours began to pass like minutes. Jason glanced at the chronometer in his link. 2:47AM already! I guess it’s true what Einstein said: Put your hand on a red hot oven and a moment feels like a lifetime, spend time with a beautiful girl and an entire night feels like a moment.

Alejandra had drastically undersold Sean and Brian’s performance; it electrified Narcissus — Neptune. Their edgy, pop sound; the intensity of Bryan’s rapping which complimented Sean’s utterly sensual lyricism, had the entire club on it’s feet. Jason found himself drinking deeply in the sound. Well, the Phenibut has definitely kicked in! One of the most often reported effects of Phenibut is a heightened awareness and pleasure found in music; you really feel the beat in your chest, the baselines are nearly tangible, the energy of the artist is more contagious and the adagio between the frenetic tempo of a bass drop more uplifting to the hairs on the back of one’s neck.

The show, the opulent club and the risqué dancefloor antics had all made it one of the most fun nights Jason had in long time. It wasn’t cheap; the bar tab came to almost $700, upon which Jason tipped the cocktail waitress another $100. I’m feeling generous and I’ve spent a hell of a lot more having way less fun.

Alejandra threw her arms around Jason, kissed him on the cheek, then stared him down with eyes that were suddenly very intense then oscillated back to totally playful.

“Jason thank you so much for everything…” She was drunk “Hypnautic just invited us to an after party at a penthouse not far from here.”

“Cool! Do we need an address?”

“No. I know it. One Lincoln Park.” That’s a really nice building. My building is a mere pauper’s hovel in comparison.

“I’m bored here. If you want to go to an after party, I can go but I can’t stay and party all night, I have some stuff to do tomorrow morning.” That’s not true but it fits with my too cool for school persona.

On their way out of the club, they ran into a little more inebriated Anna, the Swedish girl with the boyish hair.

“There’s two of you!” She remarked at the sight of the twins, throwing herself into a drunken embrace of the three of them. Time to push a few of Astrid’s jealously buttons

“Anna, the artist who just performed invited us to an after party close by here. I like your energy! You should join us.”

“Oh no I can’t. Thanks”

“No. Come.” Jason countered with a psuedo stern look

“I have stuff to do tomorrow. Sorry!”

“It’s already tomorrow, it’s 3AM. Your plans are already ruined.” Jason persisted

“You should go have a good time with these two beautiful Latin women. Another time I can join you, maybe we can exchange phone numbers?” She laughed

“I don’t have a phone number.” Jason retorted sarcastically “I just want you to teach us some charming things in Swedish.”

“Where is it?”

“One Lincoln Park. It’s like 4 minutes from here in a taxi. Do you want to come with us for just 15 minutes to see the view? It’s a sick view…”

The fifth time was the charm.

“Oh that’s a nice building. I guess I could come. You guys are leaving now?”

Leaving the club proved to be a 10 minute ordeal as every few steps, they ran into a guy that knew or would have liked to know Alejandra — the consummate socialite. Not in the mood to compete with this deluge of male attention, Jason diligently pulled his trio of fair companions towards the door.

They hopped in an old school taxi with an actual human driver. So anarchonistic, I guess not every simpleton’s job has been replaced by robots

“One Lincoln Park. Please” Jason ordered

“Let’s go! Vamos!” The lushy Swede added

As they drew within about 10 blocks of their destination the angular structure of One Lincoln Park began peaking at them between and above the tops of other buildings. An elegant wedge of 32 stories of contoured glass, cement and steel reached into the night sky.

Anna, who had gotten in the front passenger seat, craned her neck around and began asking her new friends the standard questions you ask complete strangers who convince you to leave a nightclub with them; how do you three know each other? How do you know the host of the after party? What were you celebrating at the club? How drunk did you get? Will there be food? To which, the still quite chipper, Alejandra gave long winded yet incomplete answers. Astrid sleepily laid her head on Jason’s shoulder.

The taxi deposited them in the stately drive through entrance of the One Lincoln Park. Alejandra, impressively in her state of intoxication and soaring high heels, navigated up the flight of steps to the grand foyer of the building. The bored looking night doorman perked up at the sight of the identical Colombianas and didn’t hesitate to buzz them into the building.

The clicks of the girl’s heels across the marble floor echoed off the high ceilings of the lobby. The elevator belonged on the Starship Enterprise, as if to show off Alejandra passed her hand over the buttons, not touching them, the buttons lit up somehow sensing the movement, she held her finger over the PH button a moment longer though. It blinked twice and the elevator began to silently ascend towards the penthouse.

Obviously, she’s been here before.

They emerged onto an extremely clean passageway with few doors, as they approached one end of the building, a light thumping of music reverberated through the walls, it became obvious that this is where the after party was.

After Alejandra had rang a doorbell a few times a tall, handsome man with a cocktail in his hand cracked the door open to peer out and catching the stunning sight of Alejandra and Astrid, opened it all the way and gestured for them to enter. “Hi Paul!” Alejandra energetically greeted him, in a tone that was almost too excited.

“Nice to see you Alejandra.” Paul responded with about an 3rd of her energy and causally kissed her on the cheek, he turned to lead them into the penthouse apartment. Unlike the cue of suitors who had approached Alejandra all night long at the club, he had a subtle standoffishness; as if two identical latina goddesses, dressed to kill, appearing at his doorstep at 3:13AM was practically a nightly occurrence.

The apartment was swank. Its first feature that jumped out at Jason, was a risqué piece of art that commanded the foyer. A tall painting of a silhouette of a woman in a Marlyn Monro-esque pose; laying on her back on a cushion, her voluptuous, crossed legs pointed nearly straight up resting against a wall in the background, her platform heels nearly scrapping the top of the frame of the painting and her head arched back, dangling over the edge of the cushion gazing at whomever’s attention was entrapped.

“That’s the pose I’m going to be in soon!” Anna blurted with a half joking tone.

The apartment was a visual clash of galvanisingly excentic modern art, empty spaces and wall length panes of glass containing 10000 twinkling city lights. Every visible side of the apartment was terraced with a glass balcony. A stately, large round clock, commanded the open kitchen — where a group of after partiers paused thier conversation upon the enrapturing entrance of the Colombianas and the lucky Swede — Bulova was written across its face in subtle cursive letters. Nice!

Anna continued to gush about every opulent feature of the appartment, she dragged them out onto a palatial patio with a bubbling Jacuzzi, a stream trickled vertically down a waterfall built into one wall, a monsterous chrome grill that looked like it could cook an entire cow and a squadron of lounge seats arrayed around a flickering fuel powered fire pit.

Jason dragged Astrid to a corner of the balcony to admire the view together for a moment before losing himself again in the sweet wetness of her mouth.

Jason’s queasiness about heights was about to overcome his passion though. Why do they have to make these buildings so fucking tall!

Just as he was about to shudder, Astrid asked in her low, velvet smooth voice “Can we sit by the fire? I don’t like the height.” Me too!

Jason sunk into one of the comfy chaise lounges, oddly despite the ample size of the lounge Astrid elected to sit in the one next to Jason. That’s weird!

“Babe, sit here.” He guestured to the space next to him.

“No, I’m tired. Let’s talk.” She settled into her lounge, staring longingly into the flames.

Jason was getting a little tired and his pessimistic side reared his insecurities.

What the fuck! Why dosen’t she want to sit and cuddle with me? This is how this bitch treats me after I spent $800 so her and her sister could have a fun night! We’ve had such a sexy night and now she just wants to talk. What the fuck do I have to say to a girl like this? Maybe I should just sit down on her lounge and start cuddling with her. Maybe she’s still angry about me flaking on her yesterday… Then a more clever thought presented itself…

“Ok. I’m going to tell you your future.” He said with a matter of fact tone

“Really how?” A wide smile began to grow on her face

“With your hand. Give me your hand.” He replied with the same tonality he used when consulting on a poker hand

She perked up a little further as he took her hand, turned it over and began running his fingers over the lines of her palm.

“So this is your life line, this one is your faith line, this one represents children, money, your love line…”

The truth is I don’t know jack shit about reading palms but it seems like a good excuse to start escalating physically.

“… So you felt very alone and was very sad when you were younger.”

She nodded, opened her mouth as if about to interject something and then just nodded again, now attentive to the charlatan’s devinations of her palms.

“Oh, I see something weird. I need to see it under more light.” He gestured again to the Astrid-sized open space beside him and subtly pulled her toward him. Her resistance did not persist, she cuddled up next to Jason, where her palm in his was more clearly illuminated.

“…You see this one… Your life line is very short. You will die young.”

“Don’t tell me that!” A very melancholy look came across her features that were all the more porcelain in the surreal fire light, Jason couldn’t tell if she was genuinely upset or just playing along.

“But I have good news… It looks like you will die of chocolate cake.”

“I love cake! How did you know?” Her countenance lit up

“A lover will leave you heartbroken and you will turn to eating decadent deserts all day, everyday. You will grow fat and die of chocolate cake.” With that he tickled her and poked at her none existent gut

“I am not happy with this hand prediction you give me! You are fire now!” She giggled and squirmed

“No. I am not fire. This is fire.” He laughed while gesturing to the flame “The expression is: You are fired.” He corrected her grammar

She embraced him again, kissing him with a paradoxical intensity and tenderness, this time her slender fingers meandering through his hair. As their tongues tango danced, Jason’s fingers explored her increasingly surrendering curves, yet struggling to determine if her magnificent tits were surgically enhanced or not.

“Perhaps I died already…” she murmured with maybe just a little of a moan “…You are fire.”

God! I can’t wait to fuck you!

After a moment of indeterminable length they were disturbed; “Oh my god! Look at these sexy bitches!” Anna announced about Jason and Astrid with boisterous voyeurism to whoever cared and then went back to taking a selfie of herself next to the waterfall.

Jason tore his attention away from the succumbing Astrid, to see that a few more after partiers had arrived at the castle in the sky, including Hypnautic who the high heeled Alejandra was leaning against. The two men shared mischievous nods. Alejandra teetered out on the patio to check on her sister, sitting down across from them, Hypnautic joined her a moment later with a bottle of water in his hand.

Anna slumped into the chaise lounge next to them and Alejandra waved to the coolly detached Paul who joined them.

I better socialize with the host a little…

“Nice place Paul.” Jason started by making the understatement of the night.

“Thanks. Nice watch Jason.” He repaid the subtlety of the compliment with just a hint of a smirk.

“One has to keep track of time.” Jason repaid the sly smirk “Were you at the party at Narcissus-Neptune?”

“No I had a business dinner that ran late…”

“Jason, I want to meet my supposed twin that you mistook me for!” Anna cut into the conversation with a tone of playful accusation “If that’s not just a clever thing you say to girls in nightclubs…”

“No. You are the spitting image of my friend Trish from Support, but when I heard your accent I knew you were someone else.” Jason responded matter-of-factly

“You are in Support! Why?”

“I stole 3 millions dollars.” An unthinking and sloppy admission that would reap strange and unforeseeable consequences that Jason, in that moment, intoxicated by Phenibut, triple distilled Polish vodka and the coquettish Astrid could not fathom.

“What!” Astrid exclaimed with a hurt disappointment in her voice

“You stole 3 millions dollars! How are you in Support and not jail?” Anna probbed further

“I found a statistical anomaly of weakness in a fortress of robust antifragility that I could take advantage of without hurting anyone and I got way with it with almost completely clean hands.” He now had 100% of the attention of Paul who had up till then exuded a certain graceful disinterest.

“.. that and I have a really good attorney.” Jason added with a Bill Clinton-esque smirk.

Astrid noticeably edged away from him. Shit. I shouldn’t have admitted that to them. What’s gotten into me? Usually I would never tell this sort of thing to a group of complete strangers.

“But I didn’t take anything that wasn’t clearly there for the taking. I really shouldn’t say anymore though…” Jason cut himself off and took an avoiding sip of his drink.

The three woman were frozen in agape expressions of curiosity and arousal, accentuating the rotundity of their eyes and mouths, Paul smiled slyly with just a quantum of admiration.

Hypnautic gave Jason a knowing look and picked just that moment to cut the social awkwardness with a little more mundane tangent of conversation.

“Where are you from?” He asked Anna

“France orgininally but I grew up in Stockholm, Sweden.” Anna ran her hand through her hair as she redirected her attention to the fabulous fedora donning Hypnautic “You want to learn a useful phrase in Swedish? He asked me earlier.”


“Trekant (tray-a-cunt)” She uttered in a low tone staring Hypnautic in the eyes “That means threesome.”

“And threesome in French is ménage à trois?” Hypnautic responded as if discussing dining options with a waitress

“Very good!”

“I don’t speak much French but I know that phrase!” Alejandra added, lifting her eyebrows rhythmically like the fountains of Ceasar’s Palace soaring into the air during thier nightly show.

“I know a little french that’s appropriate in this discussion” Jason interjected “Je vais te faire l’amour comme un dieu…”

To which Anna emitted a highly amused sound that was a hybrid of a girly scream and a giggle.

“That means: I will fuck you like a god.” Anna translated

The twins in uncanny synchronicity, held their hands to their bodacious chests in dramatized indignation then Astrid began to lightly stroke Jason’s forearm.

“I thought it meant: I will make love to you like a god.” Jason responded with exaggerated coyness “My friend Fredrik taught me a more charming, more romantic phrase…” Jason then hissed out almost the exact same sentence in his poor attempt at a French accent, staring Anna in the eyes “Je vais te faire l’amour comme un chien…”

To which Anna nearly spit out her drink and translated “I will fuck you like a dog.”

“No!” Jason similarly brought his hand to his chest in pseudo surprise, denying his indecent proposal and then he continued, asking the group “You want to hear my favorite word in French?” This conversation needs to go on a little less sexual tangent.

“Sure.” Anna smiled

“Kangourou.” Jason sillilly accentuated the double oh-oh syllables at the end of the word

Anna laughed again, less energetically and translated “Kangaroo.”

“So if I wanted to be really charming in French I could say…” Jason tried to channel the manner of French dandy “Je vais te faire l’amour comme un kangourou…”

This time Anna did spit out her drink.

“I will fuck you like a kangaroo.”

“Fuck like a kangaroo! What does that mean? I’ve never heard such a stupid expression before” Alejandra demanded with a judgmental tone revealing just a bit of perverse curiosity.

“Nothing…” Jason responded with a certain tone and a suggestive look.

Even Paul was laughing now.

Jason gave Astrid’s hand a little squeeze of acknowledgment, she cuddled close up next to him again, kissed him on the cheek and whispered “Tan ridículo.”

Just like that she had apparently forgiven him for stealing the 3 million dollars.

“Paul, where is your bathroom?” Astrid cut the degenerating conversation.

Jason’s mind jumped to the sexual logistics presenting themselves…

Tonight is awesome, but it could be more awesome… If I fucked her in the bathroom!

Not exactly a classy move but actually fairly consistent with my behavior thus far…

Wait it’s totally rude to try to fuck someone while they are trying to urinate…

I’ll wait outside the bathroom till she finishes then tell her my contact lens is bothering me and I need her help removing it to isolate her.

“In the corner there next to the television.” Paul pointed, to Jason’s delight, to the corner of the penthouse most devoid of after partiers.

“I will use the restroom after you.” Jason told her as they rose together from the lounge, she led the way back in the penthouse, Jason shared a wily look with Hypnautic revealing his designs on Astrid’s departing curves.

Jason waited next to the bathroom, psyching himself up. Alright buddy… Logistics are as good as they are going to get. This girl is practically wet already. All you gotta provide is a very thin layer of plausible deniability for her and you’re in like Flynn! You got this!

After an infuriatingly long 2 minutes she emerged from the bathroom to find Jason holding a finger to his right eye and blinking slowly in apparent pain.

“Are you ok?” She asked concerned

“My contact lens is really hurting me. I need another pair of hands to help remove it. Can you help me for just a minute?”

“Of course!” She replied as she entered the bathroom with him, standing inconveniently between him and the door. He feigned pain again.

“Babe, give me that red towel.” He gestured to a luxurious looking towel on the far end of the bathroom.

She pulled it off the wall and handed it to Jason dutifully

“Babe, hold out your hands like this.” Jason cupped his hands between them in what would be a most ineffective way to collect a contact lens, she followed suit.

“Now look me in the eyes.” He commanded, which she did with a just a little of a skeptical look.

“Nobody is watching us right now.” A reassuring and completely improvised promise, which he immediately followed with smooth movement — after a night of smooth movements — he quickly wrapped the towel around her wrists and pulled it just a little tight, trapping her hands together in the fine texture of the towel. A momentary look of surprise on her face gave way to a welcoming glow of perverse pleasure. With that he lifted her bound hands above her head and began to kiss her.

With his free hand he grabbed her belt loop and pushed her with a gentle yet certain motion against a wall of the bathroom — to Jason’s great luck the light switch was within reach. In a dexterous move that should have belonged in a vertical version of the game Twister, Jason hit the dimmer and lightly kicked the door shut simultaneously. Darkness embraced them.

“Me atrapaste.” she purred out as their tongues took a momentary siesta from their grappling.

His hands began to explore more freely the peaks and valleys of her body. Despite the seemingly sufficient foreplay on the patio, this seduction was still happening with vexing slowness. While she allowed and even invited some over the clothing fondling his attempts to remove her articles of clothing flopped. He reverted to the neck nibbling which seemed to be a sure source of little moans.

At the very moment that it seemed like he might be making some progress, with one of his hands, which had crept up her back and was loosening her bra strap, they heard a demanding knock of the door. Astrid transformed from fire to ice as she brushed off Jason’s hands, an equally demanding (and incomprehensible to Jason) rapid stream of Spanish came from the other side of the door to which Astrid responded in acquiescence. Jason didn’t need to speak Spanish to understand he was cock blocked.

Fucking Alejandra!

Alejandra entered the bathroom, turned the light back on and pulled Astrid away from Jason.

“Sorry! You will not be fucking her like a kangaroo tonight, Jason!” She took an authoritative tone.

Jason emerged from the bathroom, to see the whole penthouse had been privy to the little episode between the three of them. It was worth a shot… He smirked and went to pour himself another drink.

Hypnautic offered Jason a half sarcastic maxim:

“When you party with latinas, you can always count them to act like strippers in between 11PM and about 2:45AM… After 3AM they turn back into catholic girls, but if you can keep them partying around 4:30AM then they start trying to get pregnant…”

While the girls shared words in Spanish that his link failed to translate, Paul joined Jason in the kitchen next to an ice bucket which, after the long night of partying was mostly a water bucket.

“Jason what do you do?”

“Me? I just play poker online.”

“Interesting.” Paul had returned to his dispassionate baseline, yet he continued “Can I show you something in my office real quick?” He asked in a none questioning way.

“Sure.” Jason shrugged and gestured to Astrid that he’d be back shortly.

Jason followed him down a corridor that opened into a home office that put Jason’s own nerve center to shame. A tall backed, expensive looking leather executive chair on one side of a heavy looking lacquer desk commanded three subordinate leather seats.

Paul settled into the tall chair and swiveled himself to face Jason directly, the musculature of his tall frame was somehow accentuated by the seat, like a warrior king on a throne.

“Nero.” His eyes narrowed with intensity as he uttered the last word Jason wanted to hear. Jason couldn’t conceal his discomfort, everything in his body faught to hide the storm of surprise, shame, nervousness and flat out fear for his life that he felt.

“You are Nero.” A wide smile spread across his face, Jason’s darting eyes betrayed his guilt.

“Fucking Nero shows up on my doorstep, chasing a piece of ass! What luck I have!” He leaned back with a supremely arrogant look on his face.

“Recognize this?” He half threw a business card at Jason across his lacquer desk, it read: Paul Pierson, Managing Partner, Quantum Dynamics, Inc

Oh fuck… The mining firm we robbed.

Paul continued with a cutting, yet precise aggression:

“Tell me! Right now! I don’t care if we have to sit here till the sun comes up. You’re going to tell me how you fucking did it… Or you’re not leaving this fucking floor alive. No one here knows who you fucking are! No one knows you fucking came here tonight! I’ve had men killed for less.”


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Adventuring philosopher, Pompous pontificator, Writer, K-Selected Biohacker, Tantric husband, Raconteur & Smart Drug Dealer 🇺🇸

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