GB96 - Stop her

You stop Stef firmly.

She gives you a **** look. You shake your head, and she sighs. Then she glares at you and plops in your lap, assuming a pouting expression.

“Please?” she whines, putting her arms around your neck.

You can’t help but laugh.

“If was fun, right?” she says.

Yes, that had been… exciting. And the memory of being bent over this very desk and everything that went with that stirs you up inside. So does the feel of her in your lap. She has kind of a skinny little rear end, but it’s still cute.

“I love you, Stef. Not like that,” you tell her, suppressing your laugh.

She rolls her eyes and groans. “Ugh.” Then she sighs and straightens up, but doesn’t get out of your lap. “I know.” She shakes her head and scowls at your closed curtains. “I just don’t want to think about her.”

“I know,” you say, patting her leg. “I’m sorry. I should’ve found a better way to distract you.”

“I’m good with it,” she tells you with an annoying little look. “Sure you don’t want it? Sure you don’t want me to knock you up?” she asks, using a stupid, deep voice. “Give you mah babbee juice,” she adds.

You snort and turn your head. You can’t look at her.

“Get off me,” you say, patting her side.

“Your loss,” she says, now using a haughty voice. “You smell like cheesecake. Where’s my share?”

“It’s in the fridge, Stef,” you say, rubbing your face.

“Fine.” With another exasperated sigh, she struts outrageously out of the room.

It’s not like you are not tempted. Stef is funny, and you never need much convincing to get your rocks off. But you don’t want to establish that precedent. You and Stef have a good thing going. Why risk it?

Still… you know what Stef needs. You lean your chair back and reach for your phone.

A girl you don’t know picks up the phone.

“CCL, motherfucker,” she says.

“Hi. Is Lily around?”

“Who’s calling?”

“Her weed girl.”

“One second,” the girl on the other end says.

A minute passes. You strain your ears, but don’t hear anything from downstairs. What is Stef doing? Eating the whole cheesecake? Probably.

Finally, Lily picks up the phone.

“Hello?” she says curiously.

“It’s me,” you tell her.

“Dick girl,” she says with a laugh. “I was going to say.”

“Do you even have a weed girl?”

“Mind your business. What’s up?”

“Um, I need your services,” you say.

“Where’s the party?”

“My house. And are you, uh, in the mood to party? I have a friend over. She’s, um… a lot like me. She likes to party too.”

Lily doesn’t even try not to laugh.

“You have a nice dick, Carla. But no game.”

“Well, uh, there’s… two nice dicks at this party. If you wanted to come.”

“A small party?”

“An intimate party,” you say in a sultry voice. “I know you’ll like it.”

She makes a noncommittal noise. “You want this party catered?”

“Yes. Very.”

“And will you be paying with cash or with, uh, cash? Cash would be the third option.”

“I ain’t got no damn money,” you tell her honestly.

There’s a pause. “You want free catering?”

“I can pay you in affection,” you offer.

“No thanks. You can just owe me one.”

Something in the way that Lily says it makes a chill run down your spine.

“Actually, you can owe me two,” she says. “Because I should be studying.”

“I should be studying too,” you retort. “Don’t be selfish.”

“Girl…” she says with a snort.

Lily will come over, but only if you promise her an undetermined favor in the future.

Make the deal?

Or think of something else?