Samantha endures dinner with her gorgeous friends and learns of GeneMatch™

The restaurant was one of those trendy Brooklyn spots that Zoe always insisted on—exposed Edison bulbs hanging from the ceiling, reclaimed wood everywhere, and velvet banquettes that cost more than Samantha's monthly rent just to sit on. She arrived fifteen minutes late, as usual, and found her friends already settled into a corner booth with craft cocktails in hand.

"Finally!" Zoe called out, her voice carrying across the half-empty dining room. "We were about to send a search party."

Samantha slid into the booth next to Tina, who gave her a warm smile and squeezed her hand in greeting. Across from them, Zoe looked radiant in a low-cut burgundy top that did absolutely nothing to hide her enormous breasts. The woman was a walking advertisement for the wonders of genetic lottery—a 28J cup size that defied physics perched on a frame that was otherwise model-thin. Her auburn hair fell in perfect waves around her shoulders, and she wore the kind of confident smirk that said she knew exactly what effect she had on people.

"Sorry, the L train was fucked again," Samantha said, flagging down a server to order a drink. "What did I miss?"

"Oh, you know, just Zoe regaling us with tales of her latest conquest," Tina said with an affectionate eye roll. "In explicit detail."

"It's not my fault my sex life is actually interesting," Zoe shot back, taking a sip of her martini. "Unlike some people at this table who haven't gotten laid since—wait, what's the timeframe we're working with here? The Obama administration?"

Samantha felt her cheeks flush. "Fuck off, Zo. Not all of us have guys lining up around the block."

"That's because you don't put yourself out there." Zoe leaned forward, her breasts straining against the fabric of her top in a way that made Samantha simultaneously jealous and aroused. "Speaking of which, I was just telling Tina about last night. This guy Jake from the PR firm I'm working with? We finally hooked up after like three months of flirting."

"And we need to hear about this because...?" Samantha asked, though she was already leaning in despite herself.

"Because, darling, you need to live vicariously through someone, and I'm happy to provide that service." Zoe's grin turned wicked. "So we go back to his place in Tribeca—nice apartment, I might add, the man clearly has money—and before we even make it to the bedroom, he's got me pressed against the wall, kissing down my neck."

Tina made a soft sound of appreciation, while Samantha tried to ignore the way her pulse had quickened.

"Then he gets on his knees right there in the hallway," Zoe continued, her voice dropping to a theatrical whisper, "and he eats my pussy like a starving man at a buffet. I'm talking face buried, tongue working magic, the whole nine yards. Made me come twice before we even moved to the bedroom."

"Jesus, Zo," Samantha muttered, crossing her arms over her chest self-consciously. Her own modest 32A breasts felt even smaller in comparison to Zoe's gravity-defying rack.

"What? I'm just sharing." Zoe took another sip of her drink, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Then we get to the bedroom, and the man's packing, Sam. I'm talking thick, at least eight inches, and he knows exactly what to do with it. We fucked for like two hours. Two. Hours."

The way she emphasized it, with her chest bouncing for effect, made Samantha acutely aware of how inexperienced she was. She'd never even seen a cock in person, let alone had one inside her. The wetness between her thighs was becoming uncomfortable, and she shifted in her seat.

"Anyway," Zoe said, waving her hand dismissively, "enough about my adventures. We're here to talk about Sam's nonexistent love life."

"My love life isn't nonexistent," Samantha protested weakly. "I went on a date last night, remember?"

"How was it?" Tina asked gently, her warm brown eyes full of genuine interest.

"Terrible. The guy spent the entire time talking about crypto."

"Ugh, hard pass," Zoe said. "Listen, Sam, you need to try something different. The conventional dating app thing clearly isn't working for you."

"That's actually what we wanted to talk to you about," Tina interjected, her voice taking on that soothing tone she used when she was about to suggest something she thought might be uncomfortable. "Have you heard of GeneMatch?"

Samantha frowned. "The DNA dating app? Yeah, I've seen ads for it. Isn't that kind of... weird?"

"Weird, but apparently effective," Tina said. "My cousin tried it and met her fiancé through it. They're getting married in the spring."

"It's science, babe," Zoe added, leaning back against the velvet banquette. "They match you based on genetic compatibility. Apparently it's like 90% accurate at predicting relationship success or something crazy like that."

"What's the worst that could happen?" Tina asked, squeezing Samantha's hand again. "You might actually meet someone compatible. Someone who gets you."

Samantha chewed her bottom lip, considering. The idea of submitting her DNA to some app felt invasive and vaguely dystopian, but then again, what she'd been doing clearly wasn't working. Another year of disappointing dates and nights spent masturbating alone in her apartment wasn't exactly an appealing future.

"I don't know," she hedged. "It seems kind of ****."

"Oh, honey, we're all ****," Zoe said with a laugh. "The only difference is I'm honest about it and you're pretending you're not dying for someone to finally dick you down properly."

"Zoe!" Tina admonished, though she was fighting a smile.

"What? It's true!" Zoe turned her attention fully on Samantha, her expression shifting from teasing to genuinely curious. "Wait, you've never had a guy make you come? Not even once?"

Samantha felt her face burning. "Can we not discuss my orgasms—or lack thereof—in a public restaurant?"

"That's a no," Zoe said, her eyes widening. "Oh my god, Sam. You're 26 years old and you've never had a partner-induced orgasm?"

"I can make myself come just fine, thanks," Samantha snapped, though even she knew it was a weak defense.

"It's not the same though, is it?" Zoe pressed, and for once her voice had lost some of its mocking edge. "It's different when someone else is doing it. When they're touching you, tasting you, figuring out what makes you lose your mind."

The words sent a fresh wave of arousal through Samantha's body, and she had to resist the urge to squirm. Zoe wasn't wrong—her solo sessions were functional at best, leaving her feeling empty and frustrated more often than not. The idea of someone else's hands on her body, someone else's mouth between her legs, was both terrifying and desperately appealing.

"Look," Tina said, ever the peacemaker, "nobody's judging you, Sam. We just want you to be happy. And if this app can help you find someone you're actually compatible with, someone who makes you feel good, why not give it a shot?"

Samantha looked between her two friends—Zoe with her overflowing confidence and sexual experience, Tina with her gentle nurturing and genuine concern. They were so different, and yet they both cared about her in their own ways. Even Zoe's merciless teasing came from a place of affection, a desire to see her friend finally experience what she'd been missing.

"Fine," Samantha heard herself say. "I'll try it. But if I get matched with some serial killer because my DNA says we're compatible, I'm haunting both of you."

Zoe's face lit up. "Yes! This is going to be amazing. You're going to meet some hot, genetically perfect guy who's going to rock your world."

"Or at least give you your first real orgasm," Tina added with a rare hint of mischief in her voice.

"You're both terrible," Samantha said, but she was smiling despite herself. There was something thrilling about the possibility, about taking this leap into unknown territory. Maybe the universe had been waiting for her to try something different. Maybe science could solve what conventional dating couldn't.

"I'm ordering another round of drinks," Zoe announced, already flagging down their server. "We're celebrating Sam's journey into the future of dating."

"It's just a DNA test," Samantha protested.

"It's a DNA test that's going to get you laid," Zoe corrected. "That's absolutely worth celebrating."

Samantha rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the flutter of anticipation in her chest. For the first time in months, maybe years, she felt something like hope stirring beneath her cynicism. Maybe this would be different. Maybe this would finally be the thing that changed everything.

Or maybe she was just setting herself up for another disappointment. But sitting there with her friends, feeling the warmth of their support and the buzz of possibility, she decided disappointment was a risk worth taking.