Eric's Attractions and Gemma's Just Desserts

It turned out that Eric’s latest match on the dating apps was deemed an absolute psycho by Sabrina.

You weren’t convinced at first - she seemed like a pretty brunette who was local to the city and had pictures with a bunch of different people and different locations. In fact, you were shocked that Eric had swiped right on a profile where the girl wasn’t showing off a swimsuit or ‘workout gear’ shot showing off her ass or cleavage.

Then Sabrina started poking holes in it. First off, the girl changed her hairstyle and colour frequently - it was different in each photo. That in itself wasn’t a major red flag, but it hinted that she was either indecisive or made life changes too quickly. Same with the smattering of tattoos that, without looking closely, seemed like just a collection on her arms of a girl who leaned a little alternative. On closer inspection, they were all cartoon or anime characters in… compromising poses. Or getting murdered.

In one photo the girl was at the same axe-throwing place that you and Gemma had gone to on a date; what you and Eric thought was a cute, funny photo of her posing as she licked the blade of an axe Sabrina pointed out her crazy eyes.

Then there was the answer to one of her prompts. ‘Best and worst thing about dating me: I’m the best you’ll ever have, but I’ll also be the last ;)’

“I’m telling you,” Sabrina said. “She is battshit. Like, if you want one night of wild, dangerous, potentially dangerous sex - go for it. If you want to look for someone to date then you need to move on, 'cause she’ll cut off your scrotum and sew it into a wallet.”

“I…” Eric hesitated, looking down at the pictures again. She was a very pretty girl.

“You want the sex,” Sabrina deadpanned.

‘Yeah,” he gave her a chagrined smirk.

“Then, before I tell you how to make that happen, you need to promise me something,” Sabrina said, and Eric nodded for her to continue. “Do not bring her back to your place, and do not let her find out where you live. Don’t even give her your number if you can help it. Be a fucking ghost. Fuck, don’t let her look in your wallet, and pay cash wherever you take her. And don’t use any condoms she gives you, bring your own and make sure she can’t poke holes in it.”

“OK, now you’re being a little ridiculous,” you said.

“I promise you, that bitch is hangry for a husband to keep under her thumb,” Sabrina said. “And she’ll go full Lucy in public if you give her the space to do it.”

“Alright, I promise to do or not do all those things,” Eric said. “If she’s hunting for a husband to lock in her basement or whatever, how exactly am I supposed to get a one-night stand out of her?”

“Easy,’ Sabrina said. “Type in ‘I want to spend an hour with my mouth between your legs. Offer is only good for tonight.’”

“Deadline pressure and up-front promise of oral sex?” you asked. “How is that going to work?”

“Well, it’s not a guaranteed success, but you’re basically letting her crazy do the decision-making for her - she wants sex. She just wants to feel like she’s in control of it. Offering oral sex makes her the one with the power, at least to start, but putting a time limit on it fucks with her decision-making because it’s telling her she can’t have what she wants when she wants it, which just makes her want it more.”

“Sabrina, I can’t-”

Ding.

“Hey, it worked!” Eric laughed, holding up his phone. “She says she’s off work at five.”

“Go somewhere public,” Sabrina grinned. “And go back to her place. And you do need to spend a good amount of time eating her out - not a whole hour, but do it.”

Eric grimaced a little but sighed and nodded. You were well aware that he’d get a better return on investment for his relationships if he focused more on foreplay and not just scoring.

The three of you got to work, and about half an hour later Gemma returned from her meeting.

“How’d it go?” you asked, meeting her smile with your own as she came in.

“Good,” Gemma said. “You were right, it was ‘end of summer’ stuff. He said really nice stuff and thanked me for being part of our squad that woke him up to educating interns again. He sent me digital copies, but also gave me letters of recommendation signed by him and the other Senior partners, plus one from the Judge.”

“That’s not all,” Sabrina guessed, looking at her with an eyebrow raised.

“We talked about my plans,” Gemma sighed. “Which was… not awkward, but weird. Ish. He danced around asking if John and I were going to keep being an item, focusing on school and where I want to set up a career. I was honest that I hadn't decided yet, but the States was tied with back home. He said to let him know when I’ve decided on a final list of schools to apply to, and if he knows anyone there he’ll reach out.”

“Fuck,” you said, both eyebrows up. “Gemma, love, that’s an amazing offer.”

“I know,” she grinned. “And I assume you guys are getting it too, I just got it first because my Visa is running out. I feel like I need to get him something, though. Like a thank-you gift for what he’s done for us as a mentor, and also all the shit he's helped us out with this summer.”

“That’s a good idea,” Sabrina nodded. “Maybe something small, if we can think of it for tomorrow, and then we’ll give him a group gift with your name on it too?”

“That is a good idea,” you nodded.

“Count me in,” Eric agreed.

“Alright, it’s a plan,” Gemma nodded, then grinned again as she opened her laptop. “Now come on, all this work isn’t going to finish itself, interns. And I’ve been carrying you this whole summer.”

“You’ve been carrying us?” you chuckled. “I think if we checked the scoreboard I would be way ahead.”

“No way,” Sabrina said. “I’m definitely in the lead.”

“Nah, John is definitely the winner this summer,” Eric said. “He ended up with you two. There’s no beating that.”

Gemma and Sabrina both gave Eric surprised looks and then their expressions broke. “Awww, Eric,” they both said.

You scribbled quickly on a scrap piece of paper and folded it, draping it over the top of your laptop. It said ‘Winner’ on it, and got laughs out of all three of them.

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