I began to feel a bit giddy. Karen was doing 90% of the talking. She was very happy and animated. It was a joy listening to her. She talked about her life and the great things she wanted to do now that she was free to do them. I felt very honored that she was sharing such personal details with me. It made me feel older, more mature. I felt a closeness to her. And as the champagne took more effect I began to look at her body more and more without being too noticeable. I was especially looking at her breasts. The tight cotton top she was wearing emphasized their size and shape. They were gorgeous. I kept trying not to look at them too much, just kind of sneaking glances now and then. I also felt the erection in my pants.Eventually we emptied the bottle, splitting the last bit with a half glass each. Karen raised her glass, tapping it against mine. "To our new friendship!"I returned the toast: "Yes, to our new friendship." So tell me Michael, how many girlfriends you got?" Uh .... well,. . gently massages your scalp." Yeah, sure, that's what it does, "gentle massage." That wasn't the way I remembered it.More crying... Actually, I had to admit, it really was a good hairbrush. But that was hardly the point.I added it to my order. Of course, it was the only item on the order.The website then took me to a category list of hairbrushes. I was about to complete the order when I noticed another picture right next to the picture of "my" hairbrush. It was the very next brush in the array of pictures.It was an absurd picture - a picture that absolutely, positively could not be appearing on my screen at that exact moment.Yet, I could see that the new picture was simply the next product in their catalog. "My" hairbrush was something-or-other-01 and this other one was something-or-other-02.How in the Hell... ? What twisted, demented, cruel, BASTARD would do such a thing?What kind of a sick joke was this?Then I remembered what web site I was surfing, and had to accept the obvious.
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