Carrie's Feeling The Pressure

It's several days later now. You meet up for Carrie for a planned date at a resturant. She shows up wearing a large sunglasses that cover her eyes.

You talk pleasantly about your last few days. Then you sit down for your meal. But, if Carrie seems out of it at first, by the time the plate arrives she's practically zoned out. All she's doing is picking aimlessly at her food.

"Something is a matter. huh?"

"Hmph." Her grunt is non-characteristic but it tells you all that you need to know.

After the dramatic way that her faux-date with David it can only be one thing.

"He keeps telling you not to cum?'

"Everyday!" She groans. She brings her fork down on her salad harder, as if trying to stab it. "I've tried everything. Every sexy picture. Every bit of flirting. And you know that I'm not bad at it, let me tell you. But, nope. He just tells me to edge and stop."

"I'm going crazy. I can't even sleep all night. And my dreams? So weird."

Your breath sharpens slightly. As serious as her situation is, the part that catches your attention is the fact that she's sexting him every night.

"Why are you listening to him though?" You raise an eyebrow.

"I don't know. I don't."

She shifts in her seat slightly. The longer she remains here, the harder it seems for her to sit still. Carrie's body is like a barrel of gunpowder, on the edge of explosion.

"I guess it's since we agreed that he's my man. If it was a stranger telling me to do it, it would be different. But, I guess I'm breaking the deal if I'm not... compliant."

Your lips part softly.

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