Blurred Lines Read Online Free PDF Page B

him for a moment, and became even more intrigued by his oddly interesting nature. Eventually I turned toward the car, realized it was half a mile away, and wished I had parked a little bit closer.
    As the afternoon sun beat down on my bare stomach, I realized I was walking down the street in my bra. And, although I hadn’t intended to do so, I left my shirt draped over the back of Blake’s chair.
    I considered going back to get it for about half a second. If nothing else, it would give me a reason to go and see him the next day.
    And that was exactly what I intended to do.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    BLAKE
    Trying to decide which direction to take my life wasn’t easy, but I had finally reached a point where it was necessary. Three stints in jail for driving under the influence of alcohol, losing my license for almost a decade, and dealing drugs to pay my legal fees weren’t the best decisions I ever made, but they were part of who I was, regardless. In being honest, they were all the proof I needed to convince myself I had a problem that needed to be addressed, but addressing it was still difficult.
    Finally, an intervention of sorts convinced me.
    More like a revelation. 
    Or an awakening.
    Whatever it was, the cab fare associated with it was expensive, and I viewed the event, in its entirety, as the last straw.
    I had somehow ended up in a bathtub in someone’s home I didn’t know. I had no recollection of going there, or even considering it, but nonetheless, I was there, naked, and confused. I came out of my unconscious state of being blacked out - something I normally did after a few dozen drinks - and looked around the bathroom. Covered in soap suds and as naked as the day I was born, I was shocked, scared, and for some reason, sexually aroused beyond compare.
    As I sat in the warm tub with a raging hard on, trying to figure out how I got there and what I was doing, an unfamiliar voice from the other room caused me to wonder even more. I should have been relieved that I was in a stranger’s tub and a woman was involved, but I wasn’t. 
    After all, matters could have been much worse.
    She walked into the bathroom carrying two flutes of champagne, humming an unfamiliar and rather annoying off-key tune. I glanced over the edge of the tub and around the bathroom, hoping to catch a glimpse of where I had dropped my clothes, but the room was void of any of my attire.
    Frustrated with myself, disgusted with her, and ready to leave, I stood from the tub and grabbed one of the flutes of champagne. After downing it in one gulp, I proudly walked past her, placed the empty glass on the vanity, and stepped into the adjoining room.
    Nothing.
    “Where are you going?” she asked.
    I gazed out the window and into the driveway.
    My bike wasn’t anywhere to be found, and the neighborhood didn’t look at all familiar.
    With no clothes, no cellphone, no bike, and no recollection of where I had been prior to arriving in the tub, I sat naked on her couch and searched my mind for even the vaguest of answers.
    And I drew a blank.
    “Where am I?” I asked as she walked into the room.
    I was barely thirty. She appeared to be in her mid-sixties.
    And she was still naked.
    “What do you mean?” she asked.
    “I must have blacked out. What happened? Where am I?” I asked as I looked around the room.
    “Well, you left the bar with me, we came here, and we ended up in the tub. After a while I decided to get us some champagne. You said it sounded like a good idea. You don’t remember any of it?” she asked.
    I shook my head. I didn’t even want to know why my cock was hard or what transpired between our having arrived in the tub and “after a while.” Completely disgusted with her, my drunken behavior, and the fact I still had no idea of what city I was in, I took inventory of the room one more time in hopes of seeing my jeans, phone, wallet, or shoes.
    “Are we in Wichita?” I asked after my search produced