Author : Asher Wismer

“There’s a bug in my drink,” said the customer.

I lifted the glass and held it to the light. Sure enough, a little fly floated midway, almost obscured by the amber liquid.

“Sorry about that.” I poured him a replacement, and he went back to his table satisfied.

The bar was busy tonight. Several people had requested The Game on TV, and I had reluctantly turned it on. Naturally, that spawned a group of Moral Authorities to come over and berate me for allowing “pornographic filth” into a family establishment.

The Game patrons tip better. I told the Moral Authorities to look elsewhere for their superiority complex.

Over in a corner, three women were drinking too much and giggling. Occasionally, one would glance over at me, look away hastily, and giggle even louder. I knew what was coming and prepared myself.

Sure enough, after a minute one of the women came over with a twenty and a smirk. “You got a minute?” Her voice was noticeably slurred.

I nodded, and she placed the twenty on the bar. “I hear you can make a woman orgasm with one kiss.”

“Is that so?” I glanced around; people were watching The Game, and the room was loud enough. Still….

“Go ahead,” she said. “See if it works. You can keep the twenty either way.” Her eyes were heavy-lidded. I wondered briefly if she would remember. Her friends would, though.

Unless….

I quickly poured three shots of my special brew from under the counter and put them on a serving plate. “Lean over this way,” I said.

She smirked and did, and I kissed her, careful to keep my lesser libido in check. Her skin flushed, her eyes widened, her shoulders rolled. A trembling began at her loins and worked up her stomach to her head, and I placed a hand under her arm to support her.

“Take these three on the house,” I said, walking her back to the table. She sat down heavily, shell-shocked, and her friends whooped. The Game drowned them out. I winked and went back to the bar.

It was always a risk, but the special brew would make their memories fuzzy and other people would remember The Game better anyway. With luck, she would never notice the babies hatching in her body until it was too late.

Under the cover of the bar, I refilled the Brew bottle from my proboscis, then cheered a particularly good beheading.