Rosanna, a punk rocker with a hippie roommmate

This chapter follows the same theme as the previous one, but is a standalone story.

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Rosanna let out a slow, prolonged sigh, the kind that could only be produced during an extended period of boredom while waiting for pizza to arrive. She was sprawled out across the couch in the living space of the small two bedroom apartment where she lived, phone in hand, endlessly doom-scrolling on Tumblr. Green and black hair draped over one armrest while her sock-clad feet hung over the other, mindlessly tapping along to the music coming from the stereo across the room. Her combat boots were unceremoniously scattered beside the couch (not on it), out of respect to her roommate, Liz. The music playing was a poorly produced EP from a group that opened for her band a few years back. They were rough around the edges and a little formulaic, but she liked their energy.

In between tracks, the sound of an acoustic guitar seeped out from behind the closed door to Liz's room. The music wasn't anything that excited Rosanna, but then, Rosanna's band wasn't Liz's cup of tea either. Despite their differing opinion of what made music good, they worked really well as roommates.

They had met years back at an open mic and found that their personalities really meshed, even if their musical tastes didn't. They had become good friends and when Rosanna needed to move away from her cheating ex-boyfriend, Liz just so happened to need a new roommate. Even though their styles differed greatly - Rosanna's loud and abrasive punk rock aesthetic greatly clashed with Liz's hippie sunshine girl vibe, the two of them made a great team. Rosanna could easily handle the creepy landlord, while Liz kept things civil with their neighbors.

Within the apartment, they respected each other's privacy and boundaries, and they both pitched in equally around the apartment. It wasn't without its hiccups - for example Rosanna was certain that Liz would try to mooch some pizza from her when it finally arrived - but the good far outweighed the bad.

When the next track started, Rosanna glanced at the time on her phone and let out yet another sigh. She was bored. She didn't have enough time to really start anything before she'd have to leave for her shift at the record store, especially if she wanted to eat the pizza when it came, but doom-scrolling on her phone had reached a point where it just wasn't entertaining anymore. She was about to get up to shut off the music and go to her room to strum on her own guitar, when a peculiar ad caught her eye:

"Uncover the Sexy Inner You. Take our Personality Quiz!"

The lettering seemed to shimmer and swirl above an ever-changing, undulating background. It was really effective at drawing her attention, considering she normally just scrolled right past any ads she saw. Rosanna fought the urge to roll her eyes over the trite and sensationalized wording, but remembered all the time she had spent as a teenager filling out pointless aptitude quizzes just to figure out which emo band represented her best. With a smirk she clicked on the ad and got ready to fill out its pointless questions. Her phone opened a new browser window that completely occupied the screen with the same ever-changing background as before. Cosmically swirling letters appeared on the screen, "Reveal The Sexy Inner You. Start Now."

She was about to tap the screen and start the quiz when a dissonant sound and a series of curses rang out from Liz's room. Rosanna smirked as she recognized the sound of a broken guitar string. She knew now that it was only a matter of time before Liz poked her head out of her room and asked for a spare string. "Fat chance," thought Rosanna. She wasn't in the mood to enable Liz's mooching behavior. The girl needed to learn to have her own backups.

She tapped on her screen to start the quiz. The first question was really basic, but Rosanna rolled her eyes when she saw the options.

"Question 1: What word do people most associate with you?

A) Bubbly

B) Easygoing

C) Flirty

D) Stylish"

She didn't know what answers she was expecting from a quiz with the word 'sexy' in the title. Maybe she was hoping for options that didn't sound quite so vapid. The punk rock in her cringed over 'Flirty' and 'Bubbly'. Those words would be better suited for someone like Liz, although even 'Flirty' was a bit of a stretch. Ruling out those two left her with 'Stylish’ and 'Easygoing'. God, not a single one of those options described her, but if she had to choose one... She was going to let Liz have some pizza after all, and her outfits were really anything but stylish, even within the realm of alternative fashion. She let her thumb land on B, and the screen erupted into a revolting glittery mess.

"Hey, Ro?"

Rosanna looked up from her phone towards Liz's room. The smell of incense and patchouli wafted towards her nostrils. Her roommate was standing in the doorway, looking at her surreptitiously. Liz's curly brown hair was tied back into a ponytail, and she was wearing her usual comfy clothing: sweatpants and an oversized band tee from some hippie dippy group.

"And commence the mooching," thought Rosanna, despite putting on an innocent expression of intrigue.

"Do you have any extra strings?" Liz asked, "I don't have a replacement for the one I broke."

"Sure," Rosanna replied, "they're beside my amps, in the top drawer." Liz made a prayer gesture with her hands and bowed her head to wordlessly thank her, then padded over to Rosanna's room. Rosanna didn't know why she even bothered to tell her where to look - at this point Liz knew exactly where to find them, along with guitar picks and hair ties - but it was probably for the same reason that Liz always asked before she took anything. Their mutual respect for each other's boundaries was what made them such good roommates.

Rosanna knew that she should probably stop enabling Liz's mooching tendencies, but it was so much easier to let small things like that go rather than resort to confrontation. That was why their landlord hardly ever heard from them.

She looked back down at her phone and saw that the second question had loaded.

"Question 2: You’re heading to the mall with a few friends. What are you wearing?"

A) A long, floral maxi skirt and a vintage band tee.

B) A flowy pastel sundress, gold earrings, and ballet flats.

C) A modest denim skirt, a white blouse, and your favorite silver cross necklace.

D) Tight black jean shorts, ripped fishnets, and your favorite studded belt."

Wasn't this quiz supposed to be about sexiness? None of the options really seemed sexy, and three of them felt like they were designed to be for goody-two-shoes virgins... Actually, to be fair, option A seemed like something that would be in Liz's closet and she definitely wasn't a virgin. The walls of their apartment were thin enough for Rosanna to be sure of that. Still, option D seemed the most punk rock (even if it felt like someone screaming for attention), so Rosanna clicked it and moved on.

While the next question loaded, she thought about the other answers and wondered how the hell they would resolve into some sexy archetype. It wasn't like they really attracted any particular attention or kink, not like a schoolgirl outfit or a corset. Those were sure to turn heads at the mall, not denim skirts and band tees.

Well, OK, so she turned heads at the mall while wearing band tees, but it was more to do with her shorts than anything. She didn't wear them with the explicit intention of turning heads, not at the mall at least (on stage was another story and the reason she started wearing them in the first place), but it was more of a side effect. It wasn't like she went to the mall trying to get attention, in fact the only reason she went to the mall was to work her shifts at the record store, but her shorts were just a staple of her wardrobe and they were too comfortable not to wear. She knew it wasn't in line with the store's uniform standards, but her manager, Mikey, didn't seem to mind - she actually occasionally caught him checking her out. The Weezer lyric sprang to her mind, "The knee-stocking flavor is the favorite treat." Mikey certainly didn't bother with the taste of the teat. She smirked.

Her phone screen flashed and Rosanna looked at the third question. She couldn't help but laugh out loud when she read it.

"Question 3: A guy compliments your new jean shorts. He says he likes how your ass looks hanging out of them. How do you react?"

Who the hell wrote this thing? It had to be some pervy 14-year-old boy with a limited grasp of women's clothing, probably heavily influenced by a porn addiction that he was too young to understand. She shook her head and chuckled; at least now the questions were living up to the sexy title. She thought about how she would respond if a guy ever told her that, not that they would. Her shorts were not short enough and her butt was definitely not round enough for that situation to occur, but she could imagine a guy saying something about her thighs after a show - she wore shorts and stockings to stand out, after all. She figured most guys didn't say anything, because the punk rock stereotype probably scared them away, but that wasn't her M.O.. She knew some of her friends would be pretty combative if a guy objectified them (they would probably punch the guy or give him some snarky comeback), but that wasn't Rosanna. Life was too short to get fired up by little things like that. Even if she was offended by such an innocuous comment, which she really wasn't sure if she would be, it was just easier to smile, say thanks, and move on. To her delight, when Rosanna looked at the provided answers, there was one that almost perfectly fit the bill.

"A) Smile, blush a little, and thank him. It’s nice to be noticed.

B) Roll your eyes and say, “Yeah, well, maybe you should get a life, Creep.”

C) Sock him in the stomach and laugh as he crumples to the floor.

D) Give him a glare and tell him to keep his eyes where they belong."

She tapped on ‘A’, and waited for the next question to load.

“Thanks,” said Liz as she walked back to her room, waving the little white square package of a guitar string as she did.

“No problem,” replied Rosanna nonchalantly. She probably wouldn’t have even looked up from her phone if she wasn’t waiting for the next question to load, but as she looked up at her roommate walking past she noticed something out of place. “Wait, are those my shorts you're wearing?” She knew that Liz didn't own anything nearly as short as that and the rip up the left thigh looked oddly familiar.

Liz froze in place and looked at her apologetically. "Ya, do you mind? I wore them once at an open mic and the crowd really responded well to them. I sold three albums that day."

Rosanna sat up a bit, propping herself up on her elbows. "They're a bit loose on you, aren't they?" she said with a smirk, "But if the fanboys like them, go for it."

"They're not loose," Liz retorted jovially with a faux-shocked expression, "Not everybody is blessed like you with a bubble butt that devours hemlines." With that, a quick wink from Liz and a responding middle finger from Rosanna, Liz disappeared back into her room and shut the door.

Rosanna chuckled and settled back into the couch, looking at her phone and the sparkling words on its screen.

"Question 4: After a show, a guy comes up to you and says he wants to see you shake your ass more on stage. What do you say?"

This question actually took Rosanna by surprise. How did it know that she was in a band? How did it know that she performed on stage? She hadn't given it any of that information and that realization was a little off-putting. More than just off-putting though, it was intriguing. She hadn’t done a quiz like this in decades, and it felt like this was the evolution of the ones she had done in the past. She figured it probably knew some of her metadata and was using it to generate questions, but did that mean it was powered by some sort of AI model? That idea just intrigued her more. She sat up from the couch, her stocking clad feet rested on the cold hardwood floor, and she focused intensely on her phone. Now she was invested. Now she really wanted to know what the quiz could do. She read the question again and looked at the supplied answers.

"A) Sure, I love dancing.

B) Ew. Go find a different show, perv.

C) It'll be a cold day in hell before I shake my ass for you.

D) Security!"

One thing was for sure: the quiz knew that she was a punk rocker. It kept trying to give her overly combative answers and she knew that was in line with her image. A part of her wanted to pick one of them and see how deep into anarchy the quiz would go, but another part of her also wanted to answer genuinely and see how the quiz would respond to an answer it wasn’t expecting. Unfortunately, there wasn't really a genuine answer for her. She figured if a guy came up to her like that, she’d probably blush, laugh and say, “We'll see.” Since that wasn't an answer, Rosanna just decided to choose the least confrontational one. Hell, she could even see herself saying it just as a way to get him off her back. So she clicked ‘A’ and waited for the next question to load.

As the glittery letters faded away in preparation of the next question, Rosanna noticed her apartment was uncomfortably silent. Of course, there were the sounds of Liz tuning her guitar, but it occurred to Rosanna that her stereo was no longer playing. The album she was listening to must have finished without her realizing it. She put her phone down on the table and stood up, picking at the uncomfortable wedgie in her butt as she did. She walked over to her CD collection to find something else to play.

"Let's see..." she whispered to herself as she perused the bookshelf stuffed full of CDs. She wasn't exactly sure what she was in the mood for, but definitely something upbeat. Her eyes settled on one and her face lit up. Cyan Reavers was a four-piece punk group from a few towns over that really harnessed some classic rock-and-roll energy, but had a bassist whom she greatly admired for adding funk riffs seemingly out of nowhere.

She grabbed the case and rushed over to her stereo to play the CD. With a click it was in, and the opening bass guitar solo started pouring out of her speakers. Rosanna turned on the spot and began shaking her hips, step-stepping back to the couch in a way that didn't usually go with punk music but felt natural for her to do. It felt like the music was resonating with her body, and she couldn't help but dance a little. With the solo over and the main body of the song underway, she saw that the next question was up. She bent over and picked up her phone to read it.

"Question 5: How do you like to spend time around your home?

A) Read a book with a cup of herbal tea.

B) Tidy up and do a little home organizing.

C) Listen to music and dance around in my underwear.

D) Argue with strangers online."

Rosanna smiled. She knew exactly what answer she was going to choose. Out of respect for Liz and to maintain her own modesty without closing the blinds, Rosanna didn't usually dance around in her underwear, but it was hard to deny that she loved dancing around to music when that was exactly what she was doing. She clicked ‘C’ and danced over to the kitchen. Her hungry tummy needed something to eat, even with the pizza's imminent arrival. She’d grab something small to munch on while she waited.

She boogied around the kitchen, grabbing a bowl from the cupboard and a package of crackers from the pantry. All the while, her body moved awkwardly to the music like the uncoordinated white girl she was. When she set her phone down on the counter to pour some crackers into the bowl, she noticed that the next question had loaded and she stopped to read it.

"Question 6: Your twerking skills have earned you quite the reputation, but the enthusiasm is waning. For something new, you:

A) Get bigger breast implants so you have more to shake.

B) Take dance lessons to master new moves.

C) Invest in a pole for more acrobatic performances.

D) Wear even less clothing to show off your bod."

Rosanna snorted at how ridiculous this question was. Twerking skills? Seriously? Sure, she liked to sway her hips on stage, and sometimes her dancing garnered certain... reactions, but even if she was coordinated enough to twerk, she highly doubted the fans of her band would come just to watch her shake her ass. The question was ridiculous.

And then there were the answers.

Get bigger implants? Was it referring to her boobs or her butt? Because her butt was already big enough... And she didn't even have any implants! Invest in a pole? A pole?! What was it expecting? Her to pole dance on stage with a guitar in her hands? If the quiz was powered by an AI, it really seemed to be breaking down because it was coming up with some absurd stuff. She shook her head and turned to put the box of crackers back, swinging her hips to Cyan Reavers' funky bass as she did.

"The curtains are open," came Liz's voice from behind her, causing Rosanna to jump and nearly launch crackers all over the kitchen. She hadn't even heard Liz come out of the room. Rosanna spun around to see her walking into the kitchen to join her. The look on Liz's face was disapproving, her eyes flicking down at Rosanna's body. She grabbed a cracker from Rosanna's bowl as she walked past and popped it into her mouth.

Rosanna blushed. Despite how often Liz walked in on her dancing, she always felt like a kid getting caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She knew that Liz didn't exactly approve of her prancing around the apartment in just her bra and panties, but Liz also understood how important it was for her to be comfortable in her own home. They had an unspoken rule that they'd try not to interfere with each other's comforts too much, and Rosanna tried keeping her half-naked dance sessions isolated to her room... Unless Liz wasn't home, in which case the curtains were closed and the living room was her stage.

Rosanna's eyes opened wide as she fully processed what Liz had said. She looked down at her black lace bra and panties, then toward the large window on the opposite side of the room - completely open for all to see. "Shoot, I completely forgot!" she exclaimed. There was an apartment across the courtyard with a couple of guys who'd have an easy view if they decided to look and she knew Liz had a crush on one of them. She didn't want the guys to get the wrong idea about the two of them.

Rosanna began rushing toward the window. "I'll close it right—"

"Don't worry about it," Liz called from the kitchen. Rosanna stopped dead in her tracks and looked back at her roomie. "I never see them around at this time of day, and besides, they seem more interested in boobs than butts."

"What do you mean?" Rosanna asked as she walked back to the kitchen counter and her bowl of crackers, her head bobbing to the music.

Liz had grabbed a glass from the cupboard and was looking in the fridge for something to drink. Rosanna knew it was pointless, but she really hoped Liz didn't finish off her orange juice - she did want to have to go to the store after work.

"Haven't you seen the girls they've been hanging out with?" Liz asked while she reached into the fridge. She pulled out the bottle of orange juice and held it up with a look at Rosanna as if to ask if she could drink it. Rosanna nodded and made a mental note to get some more. "I swear they could moonlight at Hooters! They look like a bunch of tarts." A small grimace crossed Liz’s face as she talked about them while filling her glass with the last of the orange juice.

Rosanna chuckled. She hadn't noticed the company they kept, but that probably explained why Liz dared to walk around the apartment in her borrowed short shorts. In the face of competition, propriety was quickly thrown out the window. She bit into a cracker and watched her friend place the empty orange juice container with the recycling.

What's that?" Liz asked, nodding toward Rosanna's phone on the counter.

Rosanna glanced over and saw the quiz was still up with its super explicit question twinkling in the forefront. Of course the undulating background and glittery words would grab Liz's attention. She felt her cheeks redden at the thought of explaining the quiz to Liz and quickly grabbed her phone off the counter. Her finger fumbled to find the power button to shut off the screen. "Oh nothing," she said, attempting to sound as nonchalantly as possible, "just an ad or something."

"OK..." Liz said dubiously. She obviously knew Rosanna was hiding something, but didn't seem inclined to push it. She took her glass of orange juice and began walking back to her room. "You ordered pizza, right?" she asked over her shoulder. "Just make sure you put some clothes on before you answer the door. I don't want us to get a reputation because the pizza boy keeps getting lost in your cleavage." Liz disappeared into her room and closed her door.

Rosanna blushed remembering how the poor delivery guy had to come back to get paid because he was so distracted by tits. She couldn't deny she liked the attention, even if that wasn't why she got implants to begin with - she just wanted to balance out her proportions to match her generous backside - but they came with serious perks. The attendance at her shows doubled, one of the cute guys across the courtyard asked her out for coffee (she declined out of respect for Liz), and her manager at the record store, Mikey, even seemed to go out of his way to give her every shift she asked for.

Rosanna looked down at her lace-clad investments and brushed some cracker crumbs out of her valley of cleavage. She wondered if Liz ever felt disdainful of the attention her boobs got. She would definitely be upset if Rosanna started dating one of the guys across the courtyard, but maybe that would finally push her to get implants herself. Rosanna kept trying to convince her that adding some weight up top would help out her music career, but Liz refused to believe it. It really was too bad; her music was actually pretty good, but she just had such a hard time getting noticed. A few more cup sizes on her thin frame would do wonders.

Speaking of implants, she remembered the quiz had mentioned them. The question had felt kind of weird, but for the life of her she couldn't remember why. She ate the last cracker and danced her way back to the couch with her phone in hand. She unlocked the screen, but was surprised to see the question was completely different. Had she chosen an answer? She realized that she must have accidentally clicked something when she grabbed her phone to hide it from Liz. She wondered which one she chose, but quickly distracted herself by reading the next question.

"Question 7: Your body and dancing skills made you a fan favorite on stage. The club owner asks if you know any other performers for an upcoming amateur night. What do you tell him?

A) Why do you need other people when you have me?

B) Sure, I can ask around.

C) My friend is pretty talented.

D) I don’t know anyone, sorry."

Yet another thing the AI got wrong. Her band didn't really play clubs. Sure, there were a couple bars that booked them often, more now since she had her boobs inflated, but she didn't have any kind of relationship with the owners. Still, if someone came up to her like that, she'd instantly recommend Liz. The girl was really talented, she just needed some help with exposure.

Ding-dong!

"Pizza!" Rosanna celebrated. She pressed 'C' and set her phone down on the table. She strode to the door, her towering stiletto heels clicked against the hardwood floor in time to the music playing from her stereo. Her long black hair cascaded down her back and swished side-to-side with each step. She was probably more excited for the pizza than she should be, but her stomach ached for food and she knew she'd need the energy for her performances that night. She knew that some of the other girls looked down on her for her eating habits, but fortunately calories went straight to her ass and that helped bring in the crowds.

The door swung open to reveal the pizza delivery guy, a skinny guy with more hair on his head than he knew what to do with. His eyes opened wide at the sight before him, a reaction that Rosanna was quite accustomed to, especially since she was only wearing a skimpy leather bustier and a matching thong. His jaw dropped and his eyes darted down to her mountainous tits spilling over the cups, then back up to meet her smirk.

Rosanna chuckled at his expression. She took the pizza from his hands and paid in crumpled singles. She waited for a moment as his gaze dropped back down to her bust and his hands firmly gripped the cash. "Are you going to count that?" she asked teasingly.

"Oh, uh..." he stammered and began leafing through the singles. It was painful to watch him fumble through the bills.

"Just keep the change," she said with a wink and shut the door. She had made sure to tip him generously, knowing full well that some of those singles would end up back in her g-string eventually. She pranced back to the living room, opening the box slightly to allow the greasy smell of cheese and pepperoni to fill the air. She set the pizza on the coffee table and sat down to dig in to her feast.

The door to Liz's room opened and the familiar smell of weed and cheap perfume oozed out. Liz strutted out into the living room, nude except for a pair of black leather boy shorts that were laced up the side. Her fake boobs projected out like perfect domes on her thin frame and they barely moved as she walked. Her eyes were bloodshot and Rosanna knew that meant she'd be hungry.

"Can I?" Liz asked even as she grabbed a slice of pizza from the box. Rosanna's indifference was already assumed.

"The blinds are open," said Rosanna between mouthfuls.

Liz shrugged and sat on the couch beside Rosanna. "Maybe it'll tempt them to actually come to the club," she said, referring to the three guys who lived in the apartment across the courtyard. They were always trying to find a reason to interact with the two women, and it was frankly pathetic. She took a bite of the pizza, and then pointed to Rosanna's phone. "Are you going to tell me what that is yet?"

Rosanna looked at her phone, still open to the quiz and laughed. In the presence of pizza, she had forgotten all about it, but picked it up in her spare hand. "Just some personality quiz I was doing to pass the time. I think it uses AI, but it feels like a horny teenager wrote it." She looked at the next question and snorted. "Listen to this: question! 'You're so turned on after stripping at the club, how do you deal with it?'"

Liz laughed with her mouth half full. "Right, 'cause stripping for pathetic losers is soooo arousing. How did you even find a personality quiz for strippers?"

"I didn't. It's not. It just seems to know what I do. It has to have something to do with the AI."

Liz stopped laughing. Her face took on a serious expression and she stared off into space. "Woah."

Rosanna rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the quiz. She burst out laughing, which pulled Liz from her ****-induced reverie. "Listen to these answers!

"A) Take a client home with you,

B) Fuck the club owner,

C) Suck off the DJ,

D) Go home and ravage your sexy girlfriend."

Liz joined in laughing. “OK. Whoever wrote that is pathetic."

"I know. At this point I just want to finish it to see what other ridiculous shit it says."

Liz's eyes opened wide and she got excited. "Do it! What’s the next question."

Rosanna looked at her phone. "Hold on, I have to choose an answer first." She looked at the answers and chose the only one that wouldn't get her fired, not that it would matter anyway - it was just a stupid personality quiz.

The letters faded away and Liz sidled up next to Rosanna. She leaned in close to look at the phone, her perfect tits pressed firmly against Rosanna's arm. Rosanna felt her own breath grow hot and heavy from Liz's proximity. Two years of intimacy and she still felt like an excited schoolgirl any time Liz brushed up against her.

"I-it takes a little while for the question to load," she stammered.

Liz tossed her pizza crust into the box on the table. Her hand then found its way to Rosanna's inner thigh and slowly slid higher, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. "That's alright," she purred into Rosanna's ear, clearly aware of her effect on the very aroused woman. She nipped at Rosanna's earlobe, causing her to let out a soft moan. "You can read it to me instead."

Rosanna's eyes drifted shut and she could feel her cheeks flush. Liz began sliding off the couch, leaving sensual kisses down her cheek, her neck, her chest as she did. Rosanna shuddered in pleasure, her belly quivered in anticipation. The slice of pizza, previously in her hand, fell to the couch, half-eaten, discarded and forgotten for a different pleasure.

Fully off the couch, Liz's trail of kisses continued down Rosanna's abs causing them to tremor further. She pulled at the elastic straps of the thong and Rosanna lifted her shapely ass just enough to let Liz peel away the thin fabric from her needy, achy cunt. Liz's breath felt delightfully hot on Rosanna's wet sex. She couldn't wait to lean back and let her magic tongue begin its sensual dance, but Liz had other plans.

Rosanna knew the game she was playing. Liz got a kick out of distracting her from the task at hand. She enjoyed making her whimper and moan while on the phone with the bank, and she had even bought a tiny remote vibrator for her to wear while they were out of the house so she could press the button whenever she felt like it. It had led to a few awkward moments in public, but mostly just a lot of pent-up sexual energy that they both knew would be released once they were home alone. Rosanna knew that a similar game was about to be played, and she couldn't deny she was a little excited.

Liz gently kissed Rosanna's quivering snatch, sending shivers through her body. The anticipation was almost too much to bear as her girlfriend's mouth hovered just above her swollen clit. Rosanna put her hand on Liz's head and tangled her fingers in the sleek brown hair. She felt a tongue lick slowly along her slit, teasing and taunting her sensitive flesh. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure and she leaned back into the couch, giving Liz full access to her wetness.

That was what Liz was waiting for.

She paused her ministrations and moved her head up to say, "I want to hear you moan the next question."

Rosanna **** her eyes open, her breathing was shallow and ragged, and brought her phone up in front of her face. Liz saw her response and dug back into her cunt, licking, flicking and sucking with deft expertise. Rosanna moaned. She felt her whole body shudder in pleasure. The question had loaded, but the glittering font above the ever-shifting background and Liz's non-stop **** on her pussy made it difficult to read. She blinked a few times, trying to make the words make sense, and eventually resorted to reading them one at a time.

"Qu-question eight... y-your girlfriend - oh fuck - your girlfriend says... she wants to get... f-fucked by a real - oh God! - by a real cock... she wants you to go out... and find a st-stud for her to play with... Oh god yes, just like that! ... wh-what do y-y-yoooo-"

Rosanna's voice erupted into a crescendo of ecstasy as a torrential wave of pleasure washed over her. She pressed her back into the couch and arched her body towards Liz's busy mouth. Her thighs clamped tightly on either side of Liz's head as she sang an orgasmic song into the aether. Liz's mouth remained clamped around her clit, her tongue flicking rapidly while the euphoric waves crashed through Rosanna's body. The feeling was almost too intense for her to handle, but she didn't dare tell Liz to stop. She couldn't tell Liz to stop. The phone slipped from her trembling hand, hitting the couch with nary a sound, as she slowly began to recover from her orgasm. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths and her eyes remained clenched shut, but she felt her body relax, felt her legs release their grip on Liz, and she sat in the dark afterglow of her release.

When she opened her eyes, Liz already had her phone and was looking at the options. She was still kneeling on the floor, carefully analyzing the screen with a smirk on her face. Rosanna felt a mix of embarrassment and curiosity as she watched her girlfriend's eyes dart over the choices. "What are you doing?" she asked, breathlessly.

"Trying to guess which one you'd choose." Liz gave her a naughty, playful look. "If I told you to find a stud for me to play with, what would you say?" Her voice took on a lyrical and mischievous lilt. "Get out, we're over?"

Rosanna didn't really know what she'd say. The topic had never come up in their relationship. She didn't even think it ever would. She loved Liz and Liz loved her, and the sex was... She felt her pussy aching for more just thinking about the orgasm she just had. The sex was incredible. She knew neither one of them was completely gay, but looking for a guy just didn't seem like something they'd do.

"Find one yourself?" Liz continued reading the options even as Rosanna thought about it. That option honestly seemed less likely than the first one. It just seemed wrong to send her girlfriend away to find someone else to fuck.

"Only if we can share? Ooh... That sounds fun!" Liz cackled slightly. She seemed to be enjoying the idea of this question a lot more than Rosanna. The truth was that Rosanna didn't want to add anyone, and she definitely didn't want Liz fucking anyone else. She knew that Liz was a stripper and gave tons of lapdances and exposed herself to losers every day, but that was business. In her home, in their bed, she wanted Liz to herself.

"Yes, Mistress? Oh hell, yea. 'Mistress.' I like the sound of that." She gave Rosanna a naughty smile. "How do you feel about calling me Mistress?"

Rosanna was still out of breath and couldn't really answer, so she gave Liz a thumbs up. She'd happily call her Mistress if that meant keeping her to herself.

"Mistress it is!" said Liz and she pressed the phone screen. "Oh! It says it's done! It's loading your results."

Rosanna sat up from her slouched position and took the phone from Liz's hands. "I don't care," she said and tossed the phone aside onto the couch.

Liz pouted. "What? You don't want to see your results?"

Rosanna leaned forward and gave Liz a long, sensual kiss. "We have twenty minutes before we have to go to the club," she said as she pulled back, locking eyes with her incredibly sexy lover, "The only thing I want to see is your naked body on our bed."

Liz smiled her naughty smile and stood from her kneeling position. "That sounds good to me!" Rosanna reached up and untied the laces on the sides of Liz's black boy shorts and helped her slide them down, revealing her equally wet snatch. She wanted to lean forward and begin licking it there, but she knew they had more room and more toys in the bedroom.

Grabbing the hand that Liz offered, Rosanna rose to her feet and the two women walked to their bedroom in towering stiletto boots. Rosanna let Liz lead so she could spank her bare ass when they got to the bedroom door. Liz bit her lip and glanced back at her girlfriend.

"Tonight, you should ask for lapdance duty. Use that skinny ass to find the most hung guy in the club. I want to stretch my pussy when we come home."

Liz laughed and pulled Rosanna into the bedroom. "Yes, Mistress," she said.

As the door to the bedroom shut, Rosanna's phone displayed three words, "Submissive Stripper Slut.”