AR Returns Ch25

Jess sits at her desk in her office, intent on her monitors when her phone goes off. It’s a call rather than a text; that’s novel. She answers, keeping one hand on the mouse.

“Hi, Riley.”

“Hey,” Riley says. “I want you to picture me on an old-timey phone with a cord. Like a cute yellow one.”

“Please don’t call them old-timey. I’ve used those phones,” Jess replies, smiling.

“Well, picture me talking to you on that and like sexily wrapping the cord around my finger like in the movies.”

Jess closes her eyes, her smile growing. She contains a snort of amusement.

“I can picture it.” She picks up her coffee.

“My mom’s not going to be home tonight.”

Jess nearly does a spit-take. It’s half the voice that Riley is using, which is this husky jock… thing that she’s not very good at, and partly what she’s said.

Jess’s face heats up and she looks around self-consciously. She has a private office, but the walls are all windows.

“If you wanted to come over and study,” Riley goes on in that deep voice.

“Oh my god, like, maybe.” Jess finds it alarmingly easy to slip into a cheerleader parody that isn’t… so exaggerated from how she actually was at age fifteen or so.

“I mean, would your wife be OK by herself?”

“I mean…” Jess glances at the window behind her desk. It is a gray day in Gurlberg. “Maybe if someone stopped by to check on her. So she wouldn’t be too lonely.”

“I know someone. When do you get off work?”

“I’ll be late. Why don’t you come to see me here? Real quick.”

AR Returns

Spice Girls music plays softly in the dim interior of the Free Gurls bar. Stef lounges in a chair, her beer bottle grasped loosely in one hand. She’s already ridden quite a few miles and done a lot of business. It’s been a good day, although a little draining. The bar isn’t open for the night yet, and a handful of Free Gurls are relaxing after the long ride.

Fang is still young and has some energy, even after such a day. She’s up on the stage, playing around on the pole in her underwear. She makes a point not to wear overly sexy underwear, but she knows exactly how distracting she is.

“Fucking obnoxious,” Jen mutters, pouring herself more whiskey. She’s just mad because she wants to fuck Fang and it doesn’t seem likely to happen. Stef finds that relatable but says nothing.

“It’s a legitimate form of exercise,” Carla replies, quite relaxed as she sips a hard seltzer and watches. Stef is all but certain that Carla and Fang have at least fooled around a bit. Or maybe there’s something ongoing. She lets out a long sigh and her phone buzzes.

Stef pulls it out and chokes on her beer. Her wife has just sent her a photo. The face and tongue belong to Jess while the thick, creamy load all over the tongue almost certainly came from Riley. Going by the tiles on the wall… this was taken in the bathroom at Jess’s office.

“Stef?” Carla asks, concerned by the look on Stef’s face.

Face hot, nether regions tingling, Stef slams the phone facedown on the bar so no one will see.