Whole Lotte Trouble Ch 4

Ten years ago, or even just five, Lotte would have absolutely tried to grind and twerk to get Riley off in this kitchen without… too many people noticing. She would have savored Riley’s embarrassment and frustration like a fine wine.

Now she’s content to annoy her, then pull her away to a bathroom and lock the door. Then to annoy Riley further because instead of just doing a quickie like a normal person, she’s determined to make Riley cream her underwear. Riley secretly suspects that Lotte’s having some age-related insecurity about her lower half like in that terrifying movie with Demi Moore.

Whatever the case, Riley doesn’t play along, and it becomes a sort of awkward wrestling match that ends with them bent over the sink together. Lotte has wrenched Riley’s arm in front of her and clamped her thighs over Riley’s fist, which she grinds against while Riley feverishly humps against her from behind. Fully clothed, not at all dignified.

Lotte doesn’t need to worry about her ass; there is nothing that Riley’s angry erection would rather be mashed against. Riley bites down hard on Lotte’s hood and growls, exploding in her underwear.

Lotte lets out a shriek of laughter that turns into a moan, and she shudders.

They take a moment to catch their breath. Riley finally steps back shakily. Now she has a mess to deal with. Lotte’s got some moisture going on as well, but it’s not exactly the same.

“You wanted me to walk home like this, didn’t you?” Riley asks tiredly.

Lotte just throws her that look over her shoulder, then straightens up. Someone’s knocking on the door. Lotte ignores that and opens her backpack, taking out a pair of clean leggings.

“Oh, thank god,” Riley says, relieved.

“Oops,” Lotte says, dropping them quite deliberately into the toilet.

Riley sighs. She’s not even mad; on the spectrum of Lotte’s shenanigans, this is pretty mild. Still, a little comeuppance is warranted. Just a little. Riley grabs Lotte from behind and turns her head. She roughly squeezes one breast over Lotte’s clothes and kisses her hard on the mouth, holding it even when she’s run out of breath. Lotte’s blushing when Riley lets her up for air. They’ve been married for a long time. Lotte enjoys being a bitch, but nothing turns her on more than Riley being rough and in charge. Now Lotte can walk home with a frustrating situation between her legs as well.

Riley blows her a kiss, then checks her phone and frowns.

Anika doesn’t seem to have moved.

“She’s still in the same spot,” she reports to Lotte, who finishes washing her hands and joins her.

“Boy,” Lotte predicts.

“Yeah.”

They exchange a look.

“We don’t need to be watching her make out,” Riley says.

“I want to know who it is.” Lotte’s just saying what they’re both thinking.

A moment passes. Someone else knocks on the door.

“Just a second,” Riley calls out, then meets Lotte’s gaze. “She’s here. She’s safe. We check, then we bail. No stalking. I mean it.”

Lotte nods in agreement. They put their masks back on, raise their hoods, and leave the bathroom. That draws some looks, but the only person here who matters is Anika.

Cautiously, Riley watches her phone and navigates to the upper floor of the penthouse, inching to a corner and peeking out. Lotte is with her.

A couple of girls sit by a table at some corner windows with a spectacular view. There’s an elaborate hookah setup.

Riley doesn’t understand. This is where Anika is, but none of these girls are Anika.

Lotte mutters something that isn’t English.

“I’m confused,” Riley says, and Lotte gives her a look, then jabs her in the side with two fingers.

“She never wanted to party,” Lotte says angrily.

They rush to the window and look down at the protests far below, their palms on the glass.

“Oh god,” Riley says, the gooey disaster in her leggings forgotten.