Victor packs up his tools and leaves

Victor shook his head. "Okay. You know, you've been clear, and I think I understand, but it's a little too much for me." He collected the stray tools he had left on the floor and the counter. "There'll be an invoice in the kitchen downstairs. Tell your girlfriend that the work was quick and easy, and if she has any trouble, to give me a call."

As Victor started to head out, Naomi stopped him. "Wait, Victor. Are you for real?"

"Yeah, I am. I honestly can't tell if you are, and I think I'm not sure I want to find out."

Naomi replied, "I am. For 100% certain, I'm real."

Victor smiled. "Nice to meet you." He turned, walked through the door, and disappeared.

Naomi couldn't believe it. She thought the French guy last night was a bad fuck. But this dude? How could walk away from her? She considered chasing him down the hall, down the stairs, outside -- oh yeah, that van across the street was probably his. I should really pay more attention.

Naomi sighed, picked up the soapy sponge, and resumed cleaning herself up. As she split her focus between actually soaping up her skin and occasionally fingering her pussy, she thought, I wonder what Olivia's gonna make for dinner tonight ...?