As I stand in my kitchen, I realize that I need a job. I sit down and ponder the thought of a job. I know I need a job that Brittany would be up to do, something she would feel comfortable doing. I finally decide what job pays a lot, and what is a lot of fun to do, and Brittany would absolutely participate in. Online sex. People will pay hundreds to thousands of dollars an hour to see some girl take off her clothes and play with herself for a camera. Plus, I know Brittany will do it, she's such a sexual person, she would jump up and down and shriek in delight if I asked her to do it.
Wait, hold on. If I wear a bikini, those are my bikini bottoms. So that's where SpongeBob lives. So does that mean SpongeBob is and his friends are STD's? SpongeBob is herpies. Patrick is Chlamydia. Mr. Crabs is crabs. And Squid ward is Blue Waffle. I chuckled at myself and wonder how I managed to come up with that.My smile is spread across my face, a few seconds later, Brittany stumbles in. Her hair is all over the place. She smiles at me, "Good morning baby girl." She says. I smile back at her, and stand up. My first instinct is to kiss her, so I do.
I push her hips against the door frame, and kiss her deeply. My press my thumbs into her hips, knowing it would trigger her body into undeniable pleasure. She moans against my lips and I smile in return. I pull away from the kiss, biting and tugging on her lower lip. She mumbles something under her breath, breathing heavily. She then sits down and asks me why I was laughing earlier.
"I have a theory."
"What kind of theory?" she asks. And I explain to her my bikini bottom thoughts. She chuckles, shaking her head. I think I'm the smartest person in the history of the universe of STD's.
"We need jobs." I say. Brittany rolls her eyes in disgust.
"Why?" she asks me.
"Because I don't want to loose money."
"You have plenty, but what kind of jobs were you thinking about?" she questions
"Online sex." I say. Brittany eyes light up like a child eating ice cream.
"YAYYY!" She practically screams her head off.
"I knew you would be excited about that, we should probably make our own website so we aren't in competition." I say. I sit down at the table, and get the laptop. I pull up a website creator. I hesitate when I can't think of a name, "flirtwithafuck.com".
I walked upstairs after I sent out a request to all my followers, the almost 300 thousand of them of them on Instagram, all of my 2,926 friends on Facebook, my nearly 7 thousand followers on Twitter, and posted the website on my Snapchat story. I walked into my over sized walk in closet and found my tan trench coat, my red heels, and the matching red lingerie.
As Brittany is riffling through my clothes looking for an outfit, I put on mine and began to prepare myself for something that might ruin my life.
But fuck it, it's worth it.
That's what I like to tell myself.
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The Rainbow Effect
RomanceJasmine is just like any other girl, well, besides all the childhood trauma. Her dad left her when she was young, and her mother passed at an early age. She spends most of her life being a total control freak, with little to no room for fun. But aft...
