Karen Yoshida, stuck away from home

"Joe, this is Karen Yoshida, you know, you clean my pool?" she says. "I'm stuck by the side of the road, my phone is running low, and I didn't know who else to call."

She does sound a little ****. Well, it's not like you have anything to do other than hang around on the couch while Mona decides to test out with Leeloo whether she might be a born-again lesbian. You remember reading something about pregnancy hormones doing that for some women. At least that hot dudes lost their "do-me" vibes for some babes once they knocked her up.

"Wait a minute, what? Me? What's going on, Ms. Yoshida?"

You thought a kickboxing babe who was into swimming and total fit cardio would be a little more confident, but what do you know about women? The Pickup Artist's Guide doesn't have a chapter on this.

"Can you?"

"Sure, where are you?"

Karen gives you a turnoff on the coast highway, a view spot. "I'm so embarrassed, but thank you for being there for me, Joe."

Once you follow the directions, it's clear why she called you.

She wouldn't be able to pass a field sobriety test.

You weren't expecting that Karen Yoshida and Leeloo Peterman would have that much in common. Mona would probably laugh.

"Home?" you ask.

"Wait, let me sit here a moment," she says. "Do the windows open?"

"Just use the crank, see? That handle, turn it."

Karen has trouble getting a grip, so you reach across her and crank the window open. Her belly twitches, and she makes a sound in her throat. Only then does it occur to you that if she's had too much to drink, maybe you don't want to be right where you're at.

She flinches. "Joe, I..." Her breath comes in quick pants. "Could you get, ah..." She makes a funny sound in her throat.

Oh no.

She retches and there's a warm wet patch across your shoulders.

You manage to get the door open so the rest goes on the ground outside. You wipe Karen's face and help her wash her mouth out. Your jacket and your shirt go in a trash bag from the trunk of your car, along with a rag you use to wipe around the seat. So does Karen's blouse.

You're bare to the waist. She's in her bra, skirt, and stocking feet. It would be a good look for her, showing off her muscle tone. Except that she's glassy-eyed and wrung out after vomiting to cap off the worst evening of her year, probably. Might have ruined her stocking heels, too.

"Anything you need out of your car?" you ask.

"My purse. S'not my car," Karen says. "It's his rental."

"Your date? Your boss? Where is he?"

"He got me drunk and started grabbing my breasts. I punched him and scratched his face. He ran off and called a car share."

"Is this someone you know, Ms. Yoshida?"

"No, I just met him tonight."

The front passenger door of the fancy rental car is open. You collect Karen's purse and a pair of dressy low-heeled shoes. There's a blood smear on the seat and the steering wheel. And a tooth? She knocked one of his front teeth out. The Pickup Artists' Guide would rate her Danger, Do Not Engage.

But you know that from the evening she nearly killed you by high-kicking you at the arch of your rib cage to land your head on her concrete pool deck. You can feel a bump under your hair, if you try. Ouch.

But you hooked up that night, and you hooked up again when she called you to help set up for a pool party. Now THAT was a trip, with her mom accidentally connecting on video chat while you were giving it to Ms. Yoshida up the butt. Instead of disconnecting when her mom called her a bad, dirty girl, Karen just came harder and harder. It left a bruise where her anal muscle had clamped down hard on your cock, spasming tight while her climax kept rolling on.

Better than having the wind kicked out of you and smacking your head into the concrete.

Good girls aren't supposed to have a shame kink, they're just supposed to be ashamed. Karen was shocked at herself, you're pretty sure, from how she acted that night.

Maybe you're the only one Ms. Yoshida trusted to not make tonight any worse than it already was. It wouldn't surprise you.

"Your purse. Your shoes."

"Thanks Joe."

"Did you get hurt? Did he hit you or anything?"

"No, no. Just, well, groping and not hearing no?"

"Let me look at your hands."

One of her press-on nail extensions is missing. She has bruised and scraped knuckles on one hand.

"Does it hurt when I touch you there?"

"A little."

Nothing seems to be broken or swelling up.

"Are you ready for me to get you home?"

"Can I rinse my mouth again?"

You get Karen Yoshida home. Her car is parked in her garage. The pool filter hums steadily. You stay with her until she's cleaned up and ready for bed. She tells you to throw away her soiled blouse.

When you get back to Mona's, you promise yourself that if your copy of the Pickup Artists' Guide shows up, it's going to go in the trash, following Karen Yoshida's blouse.

You don't want it any more.

It's quiet and dark at Mona's place.

The couch is empty and Mona's bedroom door is locked. You hope that Mona and Leeloo had a good time. It feels weird that Leeloo knows Mona better than you do, and that getting knocked up interfered with Mona's best friend moving in as a housemate, maybe a roommate even.

Time for sleep.

You have 2 XP.
You have Hard +2 (with Fucking Huge), Hot +2 (with Charming), Cool 0, Control -1.
You have the Character Move PILLOW TALK if you ever get the chance to use it.

What does the morning bring after you crash on Mona's couch? (Or what's your next Move?)