Serge

My friend, lets call him Serge, was telling me a story about his experience with the blue pill.

Serge took in a younger woman, a roommate of sorts. She fell right into his lap. His boss approached him one day and asked if he'd be willing to take in the bookkeeper. The bookkeeper was new in town and she needed a place to stay. Serge agreed.

The bookkeeper was a in her forties and Serge in his sixties. Serge had it in mind to have sex with her one day, but he wasn’t holding his breath. Their relationship from the beginning was friendly and honest. The bookkeeper was to pay Serge rent each month and everything was to be on the up and up.

The end of the month came and went and the bookkeeper didn’t pay her rent. An old bookkeeping trick I presume. A week later she gave Serge half the rent and said she’d have to work off the rest, she said this with a wink and smile. Serge was no fool and he immediately understood what she was saying.

“I’ll be right back!” Serge said.

He went to the bathroom and reached into the medicine cabinet. There he found what he was looking for. The blue pill. He sliced it in half with a razor blade. He turned on the water to the bathroom sink, put half of the pill in his mouth, and swallowed it.

They went at it for the next hour and half. At first they were in the bedroom, then they were in the living room, then the kitchen, soon they were out of rooms altogether and Serge was still going strong, he was overtaken by the blue pill. He no longer had control of himself. He said he could feel his heart racing, pumping, but there was nothing he could do to slow himself down. The pill had worked miracles. It was a wonder he didn’t have himself a heart attack.

“Did your hips hurt in the morning?” I asked.

“Hell yeah.”