My arms stretched above my head, my face scrunching as my lips stretched. The loud yawn failed to boost my energy. I rolled over onto my side, and my eyelids lowered.
I opened my eyes and saw that it was just after midday. Considering I usually fell asleep after midnight, I felt demotivated to get up and be active for twelve hours.
Mom placed a plate in front of me at two pm and said, “Enjoy your breakfast.”
Her sarcastic remarks stung in the beginning, but they lost their efficacy through repetitive use. Dealing with her disappointment was easier than coaxing ambition. That seemed like a lot of effort.
After I stood from the table, Mom asked, “You going back to your room for a nap?”
I chuckled. She was serious, but my laziness amused me. Actually, my dormancy was no laughing matter. I wanted to work, but I was nervous about re-entering the labour market after Mr Kabolsky barrated me in front of my colleagues.
He called me dumb and useless countless times for forgetting to turn off the geyser after our shift ended. I was exhausted after working ten hours, so some of the tasks that I needed to complete at closing slipped my mind.
One morning, the geyser had heated up to the maximum pressure, bursting a valve and flooding the restaurant kitchen and then flowing into the restaurant. I was lucky to have kept my job. I think Mr Kabolsky resisted firing me because he couldn’t find a replacement.
Eventually, I became tired of his shouting. Sure, I wasn’t the most competent employee, but I tried my best. Regardless of how much effort I exerted, it was never good enough.
“Have you found anything that you want to do?” asked Mom.
“No.”
“Why don’t you start your own business?”
I frowned and chuckled. “What? I’ve got a couple of thousand dollars saved.”
“You’re on the internet the whole day. Google it. You’d be surprised at what businesses people have started with a few hundred dollars. Nobody said that you have to work for someone. My advice is to sell something to women. You’ll never go wrong with catering to that market.”
I went to my room and searched online for the best market. A successful entrepreneur said that if you want to become a millionaire, sell a product to men. If you want to be a billionaire, sell to women. It seemed that Mom was right.
I searched for businesses I could start within my budget and found several options. Again, Mom was right. Most of the options required manual labour, such as cleaning carpets, picking up dog poo and washing cars.
Those were services, and I believed that selling products would be easier. But I had never even sold a chewing gum. What did I know about persuasion and psychology?
What can most women not do without? The first thought was makeup. I knew that competition was fierce in that market, so I needed a niche. Shoes popped into my mind. I knew that women liked a broad selection of shoes for various events, but they didn’t want to spend an exorbitant amount of money to wear a pair only a few times. Instead, I could rent it to them. Perfect.
I allocated a budget of two thousand dollars for purchasing shoes and five hundred dollars for Google ads. I knew how to design a website, but I needed advertising material.
After finding luxury shoes at affordable prices, I downloaded the pictures from the supplier’s website and uploaded them to mine. I planned to buy them only after a customer ordered them.
Two days later, I published the website. It ranked on the third page, so I launched an ad campaign.
Within hours, I received several phone calls. Most customers enquired about the black high heels with the crystal straps, so I scheduled appointments to deliver them to their houses, then went to buy the shoes.
The purchase price was $400, and I rented the shoes for $80.
The following day, I bought several other shoes between $300 and $350, renting them for $70. Clients had to pay a deposit that covered damages and late returns.
Two months after starting that venture, I rented the same pair of shoes three times a week. I invested most of the profit in buying new shoes, accumulating more than thirty pairs within six months of opening.
My monthly income was five thousand dollars. I was grateful for my earnings, but I felt that I could improve it. More shoes weren’t the solution. I needed to branch out into renting luxury handbags.
That proved to be a lucrative venture.
Three months after introducing the rental of handbags, my income increased to seven thousand dollars and eventually reached ten thousand dollars.
I was ecstatic about the money I made, but meeting beautiful women made the work even more rewarding.
When I delivered to their houses, the standard protocol was for them to invite me inside while they tried on the shoes. Most of them asked if the shoes suited their dresses, and I told them that they looked spectacular.
Most of the horny ladies who flirted with me were divorcees and unmarried women over the age of forty. A lot of them were attractive, and I missed a few opportunities in the beginning to sleep with them because I lacked confidence.
After regretting the opportunities I missed, I promised myself to overcome my shyness.
The first customer I slept with was Meredith. She was in her early fifties, had a fit body and green eyes. I loved her sensual smile, which made her eyes more glittery.
Her body language was inviting, so I felt no trepidation about making a move.
As she posed in the shoes while holding my bag, I stepped towards her, smiling. I placed my hand on her waist, and she straightened her posture and leaned into me. I placed my other hand on her waist. Our eyes drew us closer together. I got hard as her chest pressed against mine.
My lips crashed into hers. I grabbed the back of her head and stuffed my tongue into her mouth. Her saliva slid off her tongue and onto mine. The sloppy smooching made me harder. I grabbed her ass and pulled her towards me, her groin pressing against my crotch.
She raised her chin as I ravaged her neck, biting one side and then switching to the other. Her stiffened body revealed her anxiety, possibly because of the prolonged absence of intimacy. I knew how to loosen her up.
“Lie down,” I said.
Lying prone, Meredith spread her legs apart as I pushed them towards her head. My tongue rattled in every direction, grazing her pussy. She moaned and clutched my hair.
A combination of licking and slurping her pussy coaxed a loud gasp to shoot out of her chest. My hands ran over her abs and trailed to her chest as I continued licking her. She grabbed my forearms as I squeezed her tits.
Feeling her relaxed body and wet pussy, I stood in front of the bed and looked at Meredith. Her eyes were closed as she slowly tilted her head to the side. I felt her eagerness to have me inside of her.
I stuck the tip in, and a gentle nudge slipped my dick inside of her, making her moan. I clutched her neck with both hands, applying gentle pressure as I thrust. She compressed her lips, muffling her groans. I sped up, my thrusts short and rapid.
Her forehead wrinkled, and her face flushed. Hearing her wheezing made me believe that a ball of fiery lust had inflated, burning her chest and close to erupting.
I maintained the aggressive thrusts. Meredith’s incessant wheezing reached a fever pitch, and she opened her mouth wide and emitted several loud groans.
Her reaction made me hornier. My load simmered and was on the verge of spilling out. I pulled out my dick and closed my eyes, diverting my attention from ejaculating. Meredith panted.
A few moments later, I told her to get on her hands and knees. I grabbed her waist and banged her hard from behind. On several occasions, my load felt like it had swollen my head and would spill out at any moment. But I managed to retain it for some time.
I banged her for about another half hour before I came inside of her. God, it felt good.
I walked out of her apartment, exuberant. She gave me her money and pussy. What a day.
The other women I banged were younger than Meredith, wanting to rent the most expensive shoes and bags. Instead of payment, they offered their pussies. I gladly accepted.
On Monday afternoon, while answering queries from clients, I received an email from a rental company, offering clients a complete wardrobe—hats, dresses, shoes, bags and accessories.
Dear Jake. We have followed your work, and we are impressed with your company’s accomplishments. Our goal at Find Your Style is to expand operations, so we would like to formally offer to purchase your business.
We look forward to hearing from you.
Regards.
Annebelle
Woah. I had no idea that competitors had me on their radars. Just under a year ago, I had no ambition to work. Now, I have a successful business that poses a threat to big companies.
For the rest of the day, I couldn’t stop thinking about the offer. I wondered how much money they intended to pay me. If I accepted their offer, would restraint of trade be part of the deal? What business would I open after the sale?
I replied to Annebelle that I’m available to hear her proposition.
We met at a steakhouse the following day. She wore a blue suit and tied her black hair in a bun. I wanted to tell her that she looked beautiful, but I thought it was unprofessional.
“We’ve had very positive feedback from your customers about your products and services,” said Annebelle.
I frowned. “How did you find them and then get hold of them?”
She smiled. “We have our ways. Let me not bore you with the details.” I wanted to know the details, but she pressed forward. “Our company is constantly looking to reach new markets, and we don’t want to waste money on marketing campaigns that may be futile. Instead, we purchase a guaranteed product. That’s how we view your company.”
“What is your offer?”
“Our financial director would need to analyse your financial statements, and then he would report to our CEO. If everything checks out, we’d send you a written offer in about two weeks.”
“Okay. I can put you in touch with my accountant.”
“Great.”
Two weeks later, the CEO of Find Your Style emailed me. The offer was $50,000 for my business and to be the senior manager of their shoe department. The salary was $10,000 monthly, and I had to commit to a two-year employment or return half of their purchase fee if I resigned earlier. The restraint of trade applied to my state in perpetuity.
I smirked. The clever bastards. Not only did they want my client base, but they also wanted my expertise to develop their brand. The compensation was fair, and I would learn a lot from their experts.
I accepted the offer, and we finalised it a week later.
I began working for Find Your Style on the first day of the following month. Driving to the office and reporting to the CEO were things I had to get used to, but the experience I gained was invaluable.
I learnt from the management accountant about reducing costs. The marketing manager taught me advertising techniques I had never considered. And the CEO showed me the importance of delegation. As a one-man show, I had limited resources. But if I employed people and delegated tasks, I could accomplish more in a shorter period.
After working for Find Your Style for two years, I had saved a hundred and twenty thousand dollars on top of the fifty thousand I received for the sale of my company. Living with Mom helped to keep my expenses minimal. She understood my goal and supported me.
I quit my job and moved out of state. Annebelle joined me in Texas, and I appointed her as the senior manager of my company, Rent Your Complete Wardrobe.
Business picked up in the third month and progressed significantly by the end of the year. Annebelle managed five employees, and I focused on marketing our products.
The second year of business was phenomenal. Our margins were above the industry standard, and we had several new clients weekly.
I asked Annebelle to marry me, and we wed six weeks after the proposal in a small ceremony. Mom attended the wedding, tears coursing down her cheeks uncontrollably.
Annebelle gave birth to our son ten months later. To think that all of that happened because of Mom’s suggestion for me to start a business with a few thousand dollars. I guess Moms know best.
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