Jen's phone breaks the mood

Jen straddles your right buttock as you brace you hands against the storeroom wall, grinding her mound on your butt cheek with two fingers in your vagina and her thumb hooked into your anus. She mumbles in an urgent, low-pitched tone, "uh-huh, uh-huh, yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, gonna do it, oh, oh." Her labia make a wet squish sound each time she grinds on you.

"Okay," you say, teasing her back with the word she used to dangle herself in front of you all day. "Okay. this. This is good."

A short phrase of music bubbles out of Jen's phone, repeating louder each time until Jen stops to attend to it with her other hand.

Jen is slow with her non-dominant hand. The call goes to message.

"Jenn, where arrree yooou?" Kelly says on the playback. "We're waiiiting."

"We should go," you say. "Take me along."

Jen wiggles her thumb in your butt. "Okay, Anna, you asked for it." She laughs. "I could almost pick you up just like this." She squeezes her two fingers toward her thumb and lifts.

"Don't."

You tense your pubococcygeal muscle and squeeze a yelp out of Jen.

"Ow, you squeeze hard. Okay then. Coming out."

Jen pulls out a little packet with red and white stripes and a line art portrait of a man with a white beard and glasses wearing a skinny bow tie. Inside the foil-lined pouch is a moist wipe she uses to clean her lips and thumb. She treats your raised eyebrows as a question and answers. "From KFC? Works as well as anything. I actually like the lemon scent." She shrugs and takes out another, offering it to you. "Be prepared. You want one?"

"Yes. For later," you tell Jen. "Okay?"

You take the red-and-white striped packet from Jen.

"Okay," Jen says. "Let's get going."