Magical Sex Potion

Melvin spilled everything: the witch, the love juice, Olivia, the guilt he'd felt after sleeping with Bridget and the pizza girl, his intense mental and physical exhaustion, all of it. When he finished, he felt as though a heavy weight had lifted off his shoulders, and relief flooded over him in a cool refreshing wave. Bridget had listened like a true lawyer, nodding, asking for clarification at one point or another, letting the information sink in. She never questioned his honesty or his sanity; for this, Melvin couldn't have been more grateful. Melvin finished up with a sigh and collapsed back into the chair. Bridget considered him a moment, her chin resting on her hands.

"Well, that's quite the story," she finally said. Melvin nodded in agreement. He knew it was a fanciful tale, and as he'd said it out loud, it had only seemed more unbelievable. Still, Bridget was a part of the story, so if anyone was to believe him, it'd be her.

"How'd Olivia treat you this morning?" she asked.

"She met me in my office and apologized for coming down so hard on me lately. It was so... unlike her. It was almost as if she was a real person. Naturally, I didn't trust her one bit. I think she's got something up her sleeve," Melvin said.

He paused and added, "She even gave me a hug." He shuddered. "Disturbing!"

As he spoke, Bridget walked over to the mini-bar and poured herself a shot of whiskey which she downed with a quick thrust of her neck, throwing her hand up to her mouth. Her face clenched as the burning liquid sank through her throat and into the pit of her stomach. The shot glass clunked as she thumped it back onto the bar.

"Or maybe your love potion is more potent than you realize. Drink?" she offered, holding a glass in Melvin's direction. Melvin shook his head.

"No thanks," he said. Bridget made her way backs towards the desk, but instead of slipping back behind it, she hopped onto Melvin's chair and his lap. Melvin felt her firm bottom settling snugly on his crotch, and he felt the first tingles of sexual desire running through him. Hadn't he gotten enough yesterday? Apparently not. She leaned back so that her head next to his, her blonde hair tickling his face.

"Consider this, Melvin. Two days ago I was one of the most uptight, repressed workaholics this world has ever known. Yesterday, we met in the elevator, and you had such a profound effect on me that I locked myself in my office and masturbated for an hour, then followed you home for a threesome with you and a purple-haired pizza girl. I've never felt more free in my life. Today, I've got a date with a beefy hunk, and I'm considering fucking you in front of the windows of my office for the world to see. Now, you tell me that your cold-hearted boss is apologizing and kissing your butt after an office fling. Probably, the pizza girl has been inspired to quit her day job and become a full time punk rocker. Do you understand that you're not just making love to women but changing them with your sex? Changing them for the BETTER? Do you realize how amazing something like that is?"