Greg now had some money assured to pay Diane. That was the main thing. Things would go over infinitely more smoothly if Greg showed up bearing gifts and recompense. Due to Greg's success, perhaps Greg could convince Ben to raise the commission cap to 25%. That seemed fair. But let's just hold your horses there, Grego, he told himself, don't go running wild just yet. Suspend your enthusiasm. You've lived failure before, and it sometimes comes alongside good fortune, like a virus piggy-backing on a normal cell.
    The first person he called was Ben. "Yeah?" he answered.
"You're not gonna believe this," Greg says, near hysteria.
"What's the problem?" Ben asks warily. Like Greg, he always assumed the worst. But this time the news was good. It was ALL good.
"I just sold $4,000 worth of computers, dude!!" Greg shouts uproariously.
    Greg detects a clanging sound, and breaking glass. Ben just flipped his lid, but in a good way.
"Ben? You there, man?"
    "Yeah, I fell outta my fucking chair," Ben says, through laughter, "please tell me this is no joke, Greg. That would be cruel."
    "It's no joke, amigo," Greg said, quieting his tone. Other customers had walked in. More potential money. The strangers swiveled their walk over to the computers. Greg's heart leapt with joy.
    "I'll be by in 'bout 10 minutes, okay?" Ben says, "I gotta lock up the shop."
"You might miss out on some sales, wontcha?" Greg asks.
    "Yeah right," Ben says self-depreciatingly, "it's all you, Greg. I'm not selling shit over here. It won't matter if I close."
"Okay, bye," Greg says hurriedly. A customer was waiting patiently for Greg to finish his conversation.
"I have a question about these computers," the customer says.

    The man balked at the last minute and Greg lost the sale. The guy made up an excuse of not getting paid for another 2 weeks, and then coming back. Fat chance. Greg new a fib when he heard one. Lighting doesn't always hit twice, though. When Ben came in, the failed sale did nothing to darken Greg's spirits.
    "10 computers?" Ben says, walking towards Greg. The walk becomes an excited trot. Greg holds up his hands on impulse and Ben jumps up and double high-fives him.
    "They just picked it up not even half an hour ago," Greg divulges to his true business partner.
    Ben does an awkward little celebratory jig. His arms pump back and forth, and he lowers his knees while jerking them to the left and right. He looks like a twisted version of a '60s beach party dancer.
    "I hope that's a victory dance," Greg says mockingly, "Or are you trying to make it rain?"
    "we could make it rain," Ben says in a loud voice, "In $100 bills, if we wanted to, bro!!!!"
    Their chat was a frenzy of congrats and kudos. They were both high in spirit, and Ben offered to smoke some pot with Greg. Greg shook it off, but said they should party tonight at Rebecca's house. That way, they could all meet and hammer out the details of splitting up the commission. A shaky plan is made to meet later that night at 7pm.
    Greg takes out his cell and texts Rebecca:
Just made sale. $4500!!!!!
--OMG that is amazing, baby!! I love U so much!!!
I love you too, Rebecca. We need to celebrate
--club?
house party at your place maybe?
--OK!!
    Greg pauses. His success should be rewarded. Maybe he has earned the right of copulation. He texts again, preparing for a sour reply.
Can we plez have sex tonight???
    It takes over 2 minutes for her to reply. Greg's heart is hammering hard.
--Cum over after work, I'll fuck your brains out :P
    The day could not progress fast enough. There was a little pink at the end of the yellow brick road, and Greg wanted to get there as soon as possible.
    Rebecca met him at the door. Actually, slamming him against the door is a more proper description. Her mouth pressed against his so hard he thought his lips were going to bleed. He hadn't even gotten his shoes off before she was on him. Greg breaks the kiss long enough to talk.
    "Where's Julie?" Greg asks. Rebecca was even crazier than usual. The location of Julie would be the last checkbox before their fucking.
    "Daycare," Rebecca says quickly, and resumes her forceful kissing. Her tongue is nearly down his throat. She sweeps back and forth, licking everything, his tongue, his cheek, his teeth. This cougar was in heat.
    Greg picks her up, cradling her like a bride and groom on their honeymoon. She wears a helter skelter outfit of mesh shorts and an aged t-shirt. Greg doesn't even notice what she wears. She keeps suckling his neck, in much the same manner as at the Piano lounge. Greg pumps his legs up the steps, as agile as a football player at spring tryouts. Sex makes superheroes of the average male. The brisk trip up the staircase brings up images of Gone With the Wind for Rebecca. Greg has no such notions. Like a radio-controlled device, his dick was taking over, putting everything on autopilot.
    It was quick. A whirl of bodies and it was done. No foreplay. Rebecca was somewhat dry at first, until Greg resorted to minimal interaction with her, to get the juices flowing. The head of his wenis remained plugged into her while he squeezed her breasts and rubbed her clitoris. She lubricated sufficiently so that Greg could start his motions. Rebecca did not climax. But this was far more for Greg's benefit than her own. It was better to just get it over with. She knew Greg would suck in the sack. His performance would fine tune over their relationship. For now, she allowed him his fast release. It was not quite how he wanted it, but this coitus came to completion.
    Greg withdrew, and checked to make sure there were no punctures in the rubber before throwing it in the trash. With sluggish actions, Greg manages to pull his pants back on, then rolls over onto his back. He falls asleep right away. Rebecca doesn't mind.

LINK TO PART 81: http://www.ebaumsworld.com/blogs/view/82613246/