On a 7-9, you avoid getting caught. Roll +COOL(0) for TRUTH next morning while Julie and her husband visit

Roll +COOL(2d6 + 0) = 9, you and Sarah orgasm together. She calls you later.

Sarah leans harder into the window frame. Her hips rock back and forth urgently, and her head drops forward, then strains back.

She's coming, she's coming, she's coming.

You thrust one hand inside your slacks and play your clit with fingers and thumb. That's it that's it that's it! Your orgasm seizes you with all the heat built up in the steamy make-out session, with all the hunger that Sarah's mother Mary awakened in you. Another moan gathers strength in your chest. No no no. You grab your shoulder with one hand and muffle your mouth and nose in the bend of your elbow. Your legs strain against the floor behind the pedals. Your knees bump the underside of the dashboard as your orgasm rolls on and on. Oh Sarah. Oh Mary.

When you open your eyes again, you see Sarah turning the corner of the house into darker shadow. A door opens, then closes. You take a deep breath and relax. She made it inside. All is well.

You wipe your hands with a moist wipe, use another moist wipe on your face, and then blot them on a rag from the glove compartment. Oh. You make a start on the windshield with the frayed old cloth, start the engine, and run the defogger on high. You pause at the bottom of Mary's driveway until your windows are clear. It's dark outside of town. You activate your high beams and turn down the hill back home, back to bed, back to Vincent and the world of the secret lesbian clique in your hospital, who embraced you after Mary's gift had made you a lover of women, hungry for their touch, for their pleasure. And to Julie Paul, who had had a crush on you for the longest time, and brought her husband the good news that her crush was reciprocated. Julie. Wherever you transferred to, Julie was going with you.

"I can't even start," you tell Vincent when he asks where you've been all day. "But I got to thank Mary."

"Were there orgasms?" your husband asks.

"Yes. Multiple," you reply. "And now I need sleep."

You have 4 XP, +1 Hard, +1 Hot, +0 Cool, -1 Control, Lesbian, and Truth.

Sarah calls back to talk with you, perhaps about what she saw last night, perhaps something else, since to your surprise, you, Nurse Gloria Bates, were the first woman that Sarah kissed in a sexual way, despite her year at college convinced she was Not A Straight Girl. Roll +COOL(0) to use TRUTH when you talk.

"What do you think?" Julie asks.

You sip from a mug decorated with mermaids in low relief twining round the outside, tasting a sweet, foamy vanilla espresso milk thing with an Italian name. Vincent enjoys exercising your new home espresso machine and is quick to offer when there might be an occasion. It has a pressure tank, fierce-looking plumbing and levers that wouldn't look out of place on a steamship or maybe a submarine. It makes villainous clicks and hisses when he's operating it. Hospital coffee has spoiled your palate, perhaps. Hot, caffeinated, sweet, with milk so you're not running on pure nerves through a night shift.

"Hmmm," you say.

Julie waits for your answer. She sips at her glass of mint tea, the slanting light on your back deck making gemlike sparkles as it shines through the clear tea glass in the wire cradle. Vincent says it's from North Africa. The tea blend, as well as the glass. With four sugar cubes, Julie is content. But she's a hospital coffee girl as well, like you. Sometimes contract nurses come through and leave evidence of their brief stays in the unit break room. Postum. Chicory coffee. Medaglia d'Oro instant espresso. Masala chai. Yogi tea. Cara left a bottle of kombucha when she was shipped home after tumbling down the hill with Julie during a roadside make-out session. "Total disaster bisexuals!", your daughter Jillian said with a laugh when you described the scene. "Why are you going out with her again?". But mostly for you, coffee is the drip machine in the break room that stays on all night, the globular carafe with coffee sediment fused to the bottom, the scent of slightly burnt coffee from the warming plate, the round shakers of powdered creamer and granulated sugar. Actual milk had felt like a luxury.

"So?" Julie prompts.

You sigh. "I still don't know. What do you think?"

"Anywhere you go," she says. "Just let me know what shoes I'm going to need."

Your heart melts. "Julie," you say.

You clasp hands across the table. While you're looking into each other's eyes, searching for mysteries in the almost-familiar landscape of pupil, iris, lid, and lash, your phone rings.

"Is it Maggie?" Julie asks. She opens her hand to let you check.

"It's..." SARAH FORBES "It's Mary's daughter, the one I was telling you about," you say.

"Mary?" Julie says. "Mary Forbes is a witch. From everything you've told me. For all her angels and Jesus quotes, she's some kind of nympho with hypnosis superpowers. Um. Did you want to take it inside?"

"No, stay," you tell Julie. "And if Mary Forbes is a witch, I'm her gift to you."

Julie slides her chair around the little circular tea table and leans against you while you take the call. She's over almost every day now. Her husband Alvin, a couple of times, too, helping Vincent get oriented to what it's been like to be married to a highly sexed bisexual like Julie, and now, after your moment on the road to Damascus, Vincent's own wife, yourself.

"Hello Sarah," you say. You close your lips before asking Was everything fine last night? What did you masturbate to, looking through the window?

"Hi Gloria," Sarah says. "You said I could call?"

• Roll +COOL(0): 7.
• TRUTH: On a 7-9, she tells you about one person that she loves, she hates, she's having sex with, or she'd like to see you have sex with. Take +1 Forward with that person.

You have +1 Hard, +1 Hot, +0 Cool, -1 Control, Truth, and Lesbian. You have 4 XP.