Ch. 3 - Roleplay
Over the next few days, my mind kept replaying the events of the garden party. Why had Rachel changed her mind about staying? Surely the excuse about her boss's early morning meeting was just that, an excuse. Had I done or said something to upset her? I didn't know what, and I didn't know how to ask.
Was it because I'd overshared about my past? I didn't think so. She'd shown me so much empathy that she'd turned my fears around. She hadn't seemed reluctant.
Maybe I shouldn't have invited her to my bed after that. After the reassurances and the hugs, maybe that had been too personal. Maybe it had been dangerously close to crossing the line from casual to relationship territory. That was a growing concern for me - maybe it also was for Rachel.
Did that mean it was time to put an end to friends with benefits? If so it would be better to make a quick break before emotions were involved. Rachel's ability to make me feel was close to magical. If that escaped the bedroom we were both in trouble.
What if there was a way to create an emotional distance while still being physically close? I recalled Rachel's boss fantasy. Maybe I could please her in a way that wouldn't involve encouraging her to get attached to me personally.
The security guard called at precisely seven-thirty p.m. "Ms. Perry? You have a visitor. A Ms. Rachel Turner?"
"That's good," I said. "I've been expecting her. If you'll get her a visitor badge, I'll escort her. She'll be leaving before midnight."
"Fine, Ms.Perry. She'll be waiting here for you to collect her. Please remind her to drop her badge with me when she leaves."
I checked my hair in my makeup mirror, smoothed out my pencil skirt, and tugged on the sleeves of my blazer exactly as I would have for an official client meeting. I wore a pale blue button-down silk shirt under the blazer, and, in my highest heels, I was glad that I didn't have to leave the building to reach the security desk.
My company wasn't formal at all, unlike Rachel's bank, but we were big enough to need monitored access, hence the security guard, though if there was anyone in the building beside him, the cleaning crew and myself, I'd be surprised.
Rachel gave me a neutral look when I arrived, following as I turned back toward my office. Halfway there I stopped.
"Briefing. There's no one in any of the offices on this side," I said. "Cleaners have left. The warehouse is running, of course, but there's no traffic to our building unless there's an emergency. Any questions while we're out of character?"
She shook her head, her expression slightly bemused. She was wearing heels too, of course, and her own business attire, with a satin wrap top in pale yellow, which exposed a little more than business-appropriate cleavage.
I had to ask. "Is my outfit up to your standards?"
Rachel smirked, the first expression of amusement since I'd collected her from the security desk. "Well, I'd do you."
"That remains to be seen," I said, with a quick grin, then led her to the door of my office.
I stopped there. "Knock when you're ready," I said, then entered my domain, closing the door in her face.
Sitting at my desk, I folded my hands. The knock came in about half a minute.
"Enter," I said.
The door opened, and Rachel entered.
"Ms. Turner." I checked my wrist, then gave her a disapproving glance. We hadn't discussed anything about what would happen now, and to be honest, I had little idea what I was going to do. I hadn't even told her explicitly that I would roleplay a boss. Just that she should come to my office at seven-thirty on Friday. "Lock the door, then approach."
She stepped toward the desk until I said, "Stop there, please."
Rachel didn't appear submissive or subservient. That wasn't her work role. It was to support, while remaining professional. This evening, at least, it was also to obey me.
Pushing my chair back, I stood, then sauntered around the desk, to stand before her, looking her up and down. When I was satisfied, I circled her, examining her from every angle. She remained stoic, looking ahead.
I returned to my desk. "You're here for a review of your recent performance, Ms. Turner. I intend to ensure that you deliver what, frankly, we both know you're capable of. I won't accept any less. Am I making myself clear?"
"Yes, Ms. Perry," she said, still with the utmost of professionalism.
"Please remove your skirt, Ms. Turner. You may place it on the chair."
Rachel's eyebrows twitched at that, but she complied. She was wearing black stockings, with a black lacy garter belt and matching panties. She'd clearly had her own concept of this roleplay, and I tried not to visibly salivate.
Opening my top drawer, I took out a small wand vibrator. Pushing it to the front of my desk, I said, "Please apply your skills to the operation of this device." As she picked it up, I added, "If you finish before I have given permission, I will be very disappointed, Ms. Turner."
"I understand, Ms. Perry." Her eyes turned a darker blue as she acknowledged my command. Then she turned on the vibe, holding it lightly to the front of her panties.
I would have told her to move it around, to indulge in some self-foreplay, but the situation had clearly aroused her, and she was soon panting softly while standing in place.
"You seem quite efficient when you put your mind to your task, Ms. Turner."
"Thank you, Ma'am," she replied, in a deeper tone than earlier, the honorific sounding natural.
Rachel tried not to show how the vibe was affecting her, but small gasps and thigh twitches betrayed her. Her face and neck flushed slightly.
"Very well," I said. I held out my hand for the vibe, setting it on my desk after she'd given it to me. "Take off your jacket, please, Ms. Turner." I'd considered asking for her shirt, too. I wanted to see if the entire lingerie set matched. Time enough for that later, though. I liked the way the wrap rippled against her body.
From my drawer, I withdrew a wide transparent plastic ruler, a bottle of lube, and a patterned, slightly curved glass dildo. The last had a pale blue tint with an iridescent sheen. Quite attractive, for a cock.
As Rachel watched, I sucked the head of the dildo, then slurped my way down the sides. Her eyes grew darker as I placed the tip between my lips and began to slide it in and out of my mouth.
I held the dildo out, forcing her to come closer to take it from my hand, then pushed the lube forward to within her reach.
"Take your time, Ms. Turner," I said. "Please spare no attention to detail."
Rachel visibly gulped as she picked up the glass dildo. Pushing her panties aside, she began to trail the head over her lips. I was fairly sure the lube would remain unopened.
Rachel's clear arousal grew as she used the glass tip to explore her lips and clit. Her belly twitched as she suppressed a moan. Then she ran the patterned side of the dildo over her clit, slowly, and began to pant rapidly.
She made herself relax, stroking the full length of her lips slowly with the head of the dildo, her eyes holding mine.
Raising one hand, I flicked a finger up and down. Rachel gave me a quick nod, then plunged the dildo inside her, letting out a moan that made my own panties wet. She moved her feet apart and began to plunge the dildo in and out.
"Uhhu... uhhu... uhhu... uhhu..."
Each thrust drew a strangled cry from her throat. I didn't think she'd break my rule and come, but if she kept going she was going to be very unsteady on her feet. I held up a hand to signal a pause, then held it out to receive the dildo. Rachel handed it over, her expression more meek than it had been.
I took the object and sucked the head again, savoring her tangy juices.
"Mmm. I think I want to taste directly," I said.
"Yes, Ms. Perry," Rachel replied, her voice a hoarse whisper.
"Take your top off now, please."
As I'd expected, the low, lacy bra matched the rest of the outfit, and though I tried not to show it, I was tempted just to abandon the game and rip every piece of clothing from her body. Instead, I opened my drawer again, taking out a coil of soft rope.
I pushed the few papers and objects on my desk roughly to the side. Nodding toward the surface, I said, "On your back, please, Ms. Perry."
Her face showed a hint of apprehensiveness; the first I'd seen in her. I was curious. Was her character worried about what her boss would do with her? Or was it Rachel who was nervous about my plans?
"Right away, ma'am," she croaked. Then she turned her back to the desk and leaned backward. I coiled the rope around her wrists and fastened it to the desk drawer.
I was trying to look like I knew what I was doing, but I was only guessing that the upward pull on the drawer handles wouldn't dislodge the drawer itself. It seemed quite robust.
"Very good, Ms. Turner," I said. Rachel canted her head backward to be able to see me, and I'd swear I saw a desire to please me in her eyes. I ran the fingertips of my right hand over her face, slipping my middle finger between her lips. She took it eagerly, sucking my finger enthusiastically until I withdrew it before stepping around the desk.
Her ass was on the edge of the wooden surface, legs unable to reach the floor. I caressed her legs at the top of her stockings, running my fingers around, then down the stockings themselves.
The gap between the top of her stockings and the crease of her thighs was the perfect space for me to tease with teeth and tongue, so I did that for a time, watching Rachel's bra-clad breasts rise and fall. Her panties were drenched after her work with the vibrator and the dildo, and her thighs twitched as I nibbled.
Standing, I took the vibe from the desk, turned it on, and touched it to her panties. I didn't move the tip, holding it in place against her until Rachel was panting rapidly. Then I set it aside and leaned over the desk, finding her ribcage with my teeth.
Rachel was clearly intensely aroused at this point, so much so that I think touching her anywhere would have excited her. Even drawing my teeth over her arm caused gooseflesh. Her breathing had turned into a series of quick gasps, with occasional groans of pleasure. When I squeezed her breasts through her bra her hips rose from the desk.
Standing, I took the vibe again, drawing it over her panties until she was whimpering with suppressed need. Then I ran it down her stockings, around her inner thighs. Slowly, I unclipped the stockings, drawing them down each leg, following with my teeth and tongue, and occasionally with the vibrator, unbuckling and removing her heels so that I could take them off. Easing her panties down, I left the garter in place as I used the vibe on her pussy lips.
Once more setting the vibrator aside, I pressed two fingers to either side of her entrance, stroking slowly but firmly, until Rachel again seemed on the point of coming. Lowering the pressure of my fingers, I said, "Don't disappoint me, Ms. Turner. Please be patient with your progress."
"Yes, Ms. Perry," she said, her voice sounding almost schoolgirl-like in its sincerity.
Leaning against the desk, I lowered my face to her bra, then pulled aside her left cup to reveal her nipple, hard and pebbled. My teeth closed on it, and Rachel groaned. After suckling for a moment, I drew back, then grasped both breasts and kneaded them, hard. Before I released them, I tugged open the right cup, too, leaving both nipples exposed.
"If I lick your pussy, will you disappoint me, Ms. Turner? Or will you be a good girl, and refrain from coming?"
"I'll be a good girl, Ma'am," she said, tightly.
Parting her lips with my fingers, I explored with my tongue. Her sex had taken on a pink flush from her arousal, her lips and clit now swollen. Flattening my tongue against her, I drew it slowly higher. Rachel inhaled sharply. I toyed with her clit for a moment, then moved back.
The dildo was cool in my grip when I picked it up from the desk. It slid easily into her, though her thighs clenched and her breath hitched. Holding it firmly, I twisted the base, the tip circling inside her, then I began smoothly to draw it out and push it in, following the curve of the glass.
Rachel began to moan constantly. When I lowered my face to lick her clit, her body twisted from side to side as she tried to avoid breaking her promise, drawing her knees high beside my face. I moved away, letting her relax, holding the dildo stationary inside her. Only when her legs relaxed did I pick up the vibrator. Turning it on, I pressed it to her mound. Her groans rose immediately, until she was clearly ready to explode.
"God, Mandy!" she yelped.
I immediately withdrew the vibe and dildo, then rolled her onto her side and slapped her butt. "What did you call me, Ms. Perry?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am!" Rachel yelped. I slapped her again. This time her cry was a wordless groan.
Rolling her all the way onto her stomach, I checked that her arms weren't twisted by the rope. Her face was turned sideways, cheek against the polished wood of the desk. Then I picked up the wide plastic ruler, and thwacked it against her butt cheek. Her thighs twitched and she moaned. The ruler wasn't heavy, and wouldn't do more than sting her skin.
On the next stroke, her breath whuffed out in an "oof." I gave her several more strokes, each producing a strained "ulf" sound, which was then followed by an aroused whimper.
"You've turned all red back here, Ms. Turner," I said.
"Yes, ma'am," came the muffled reply.
Before turning her face up, I kissed both butt cheeks, and lightly caressed between them, bringing a wail of need from the girl on my desk.
There was a wet spot on the desk when I rolled Rachel onto her back. I grinned at the sight, then picked up the vibe one more time.
"Will you keep your promise?" I asked Rachel, as I touched the purring device to her mons.
For the first time, she sounded unsure. "Yes, Ms. Perry."
She was red-faced and groaning when I finally took the vibe away. I tried touching it to her thighs and her belly, and even there it made her writhe.
I crouched between her legs. "You have my permission now, Ms. Turner. You may come in my mouth."
Grasping her thighs, I raised them into the air, pressing her sex to my face, and began to suckle her clit. She yelled, and her whole body tensed. She didn't come immediately. She was wound too tight for that now, but after bucking against my face for a minute, she cried out again. Her thighs spasmed in my grip, and her breath caught and held. As I felt the shuddering beneath my tongue, wetness sprayed my face, and Rachel's body twisted on the desk.
Several minutes passed before the girl beneath my face came to a semblance of relaxing. She was repeating a soft mantra. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God." I backed away, glancing down and wincing, then I took my jacket off as I stood.
Rachel's head tilted toward me. "Ms. Perry?"
"I think we can leave character now," I said, with a rueful chuckle. "That okay?"
"God, Mandy," she said. "I've never felt that before. Did I squirt?"
Grinning, I indicated my top with my chin. "My silk shirt would say yes," I said. "I took my jacket off before I ruined it, too."
"Oh, my God, I'm sorry," she said.
"Don't be." I moved to the back of my desk, leaned down to kiss her forehead, then untied the rope from the drawer, which had proven sturdy. I freed her hands, then took off my shirt. "Was that okay?"
"Christ, Mandy, do you have to ask?" Rachel said.
"This is not me," I said. "I mean, you know that, right?"
"That makes it even better," Rachel said. "That you're willing to go so far for a single fantasy. For the record, you could have swatted me a lot harder."
"Noted," I said, with a grin.
"Fuck, Mandy," Rachel said. "I've never squirted in my life." She slid off the desk. Noticing the wet spot, she grabbed a tissue and dried it.
"If it had crossed my mind that it might happen, I'd have worn a different shirt," I said. "And taken my jacket off first." I held up the ruined pale blue silk, then crumpled it up and burst out laughing.
A moment later, Rachel joined me. After a moment, she added, "And then you turned me over and made me bark like a dog with your ruler. I swear, I've never made that sound before."
Which sent us into another shared peal of laughter.
When we calmed down, she eyed me up and down. I'd taken her heels off, but I was still standing in mine, so I was a couple of inches taller than her. "This hasn't answered the question of whether you're wearing hose or stockings," Rachel said.
"Answering that won't tell you what your boss wears," I countered.
"Right now, I'm only interested in what's under your skirt," Rachel said, which gave me a pleasant jolt. "Take it off."
"Hey, who's the boss here?"
"We can argue that, now that we've dropped character," Rachel said, "or you can just do what you know you want to."
"Damn you, Rachel," I said, my voice suddenly rasping, as I unclasped my skirt. I tossed it onto the back of the chair that held Rachel's clothing.
Rachel pushed me against the door, kissing me fiercely, her hands grasping the cups of my bra, kneading firmly. Then she dropped to her knees. "I guessed right," she said, looking at my own garter belt.
"We were roleplaying," I said. "Why would I not wear stockings? Daily, like your boss? Probably I wouldn't."
"I don't care," Rachel said. "I don't care and I don't want to talk. I have better things to do with my mouth."
The comment made me shudder, and sure enough, in a moment, she'd pushed my panties aside and begun to lick my pussy.
"You're going to do this..." I panted, "with me still in heels, like a porn actress? I'll lose my balance."
"You just proved you were an actress," Rachel said, her words vibrating my clit. "I'll keep you upright."
She lifted my left leg from the ground, resting my thigh on her shoulder and holding me in place with hands on both thighs. Then she began to suckle.
I'd focused on Rachel for our scene, but the whole thing had made me totally horny, and it didn't take her more than a minute or two before I was moaning in need, my fingers wrapped into her silky hair, holding myself in place.
Then my sex pulsed wildly, and though my ankle threatened to spill me, Rachel held me in place as I rode out my orgasm on her lips.
When we were cleaned up, I walked Rachel to the security desk, where she returned her key. I'd fastened my jacket all the way to hide that I wasn't wearing a shirt, which was now bundled in my computer bag.
"Call me, Ms. Turner," I said, as she added her leaving time to the security log.
Her eyes found mine and flashed dark for a moment. "Of course, Ms. Perry. I think we'll find our positions overlapping from time to time."
Minx. It was hard to keep a straight face as I nodded to the security guard and followed her out of the building.
On the following Friday, Lauren invited me to lunch. I showed up in my more conventional work clothes, a blouse and pants with a non-matching jacket. Lauren hadn't arrived, but Rachel was sitting in the waiting area. She walked over to me while I spoke to the hostess.
"Oh, I guess that's a table for three," I said to the woman.
Rachel shook her head. "No, still two," she said. "Lauren's still at work."
We followed the hostess to a table. "And she's not coming later?" I asked. "She's the one who invited me."
"Yes, because she said if I invited you, you'd find a reason to avoid lunch. Because you may be her best friend, but you're also a stubborn idiot." When I looked up in offence, Rachel spread her hands out. There was a glint in her eye. "Don't shoot the messenger," she said.
I glared at her a moment longer, then picked up the menu. I hadn't opened it when the waitress arrived. I ordered iced tea before turning back to Rachel.
"So you invited me to lunch?"
Rachel was scanning her menu. "It's probably better to say we're both here at Lauren's suggestion," she said. "She thinks we should talk."
"Why?" I asked. "I thought we were fine, now. And I don't avoid you." I scanned my own menu, and was ready to order when the waitress returned with my tea.
"Yes, we are, and yes, you do," Rachel said, after the waitress had left again, "if it's not for a special occasion. And that's what Lauren thinks we should talk about. And so do I, I guess, though I'd have left it alone if she hadn't kept pushing."
"So what does Lauren think we need to talk about?"
"That there might be something we're both avoiding, for different reasons," Rachel said. "At the party, I was happy that you shared as much with me as you did. I'm glad I could help take some of the pressure off you. I'd like to share some thoughts with you, too, but you trusted me enough to share only because I wasn't your person. Because I'm no one special to you."
"That's not what I meant," I said. "That sounds so..."
Rachel hushed me. "Let me finish. I see where you're coming from. I really do. You don't want to trust anyone who might be special to you because you keep getting fucked over. Oh, sorry," she added to the server who'd just arrived with her food.
She continued after the server had left. "It's important to you that I'm still looking for casual relationships. That you're content to ship me off to this hookup club that Mika mentioned. Because that would be right up Rachel's alley, right? And you're not wrong. That's what you know of me. But that misses the point that I'm perennially the fun hookup girl because I haven't found anyone I think worth abandoning the single life for in years. That doesn't mean I never will."
"I didn't mean that I thought there was anything wrong with how you live your life," I said, defensively.
"How I've been living my life so far," Rachel corrected. "Right. But maybe you have a vested interest in me being that person."
Rachel's words made me uneasy. "What do you mean?"
"I think that you don't want anyone to become close to you, because you think they'll betray you like your bitch of an ex, or your friend, or Sabrina the zealot. Maybe even your parents." She glanced around. Not seeing nearby wait staff, she continued, "So you want to keep me in the category of someone who'll never get involved, because you can't risk us becoming more than fuck buddies."
I wanted to shut down the conversation now. I was sure she was wrong, though my anxiety was climbing. But there was a small part of me that found the idea of becoming more than fuck buddies with Rachel appealing - and terrifying. "So what are you suggesting?" I asked.
"Look, I think you're right to protect yourself," she said. "And if someone came to you and promised to be different, you'd be right to be skeptical. Your ex made the biggest promise of all to you, and broke it. But you owe yourself happiness, too. There's a company picnic in May, for bank staff and friends and family." The sudden apparent change of topic startled me. "Lauren will be there. I'd like you to come as my guest."
"As a date?" I asked.
"I'm not going to use that word," Rachel said. "I'm not going to talk about dating, or relationships, or exclusivity. You're a friend, and you'll be there as my friend."
It wasn't a challenging situation. Rachel was not putting herself in a position to hurt me. She was not trying to force a relationship. She was assiduously avoiding doing that. Yet the idea that she would be open to a relationship, and that it could be with me, was unsettling.
As irrational as it was, my shoulders tingled, burning with sudden anxiety. I knew that I was being unfair and rude, but I shook my head, seeing the instant regret in Rachel's features. I felt blindsided. "I can't," I said. I should have tried to conjure an excuse, but I wasn't thinking clearly. "I need to go... get back to work." I made a quick guess at the total of my order, then tossed a couple of bills on the table, then stood. "If that isn't enough I'll Venmo, or give Lauren the cash to give to you."
Then I spun around and left, ignoring the hurt in her voice as she called out my name.
I couldn't blame Rachel for my choice. She'd been very fair, and hadn't pushed me. But I was already nervous about my own feelings. Our friends with benefits arrangement was becoming dangerously intimate. Rachel's fucking chemistry was the problem. She wasn't wrong about that. And if she was starting to feel we should consider dating, it was time to engage the brakes, before either of us was hurt.
Not unexpectedly, I received a text from Lauren before I left the office.
Lauren: "Chinese food tonight?"
Me: "Making amends for standing me up for lunch?"
Lauren: "You might say that. Also Mika is meeting with the band."
Me: "Oh?"
Lauren: "Photography projects. My place at 7? Can you find your way?"
Me: "I'll try. Shall I bring wine?"
Lauren: "I'm sure Mika can spare a bottle or two."
Me: "Two? I need to find my way home, too!"
Mika's wine selection was better than anything I'd get for myself. I was up for that even though I'd have to face Lauren's interrogation.
If it was later in the year we'd have wine o'clock in the garden, at the round table. Sometimes Mika would join us, sometimes she'd be indoors listening to music, or even working at her studio. Inspiration didn't keep office hours. I respected the fact that they didn't need to be in each other's presence constantly, and also that Mika trusted me with her fiancée, who was technically my ex.
It was a little too chilly for that in early April, so Lauren had set the chinese food containers on the low table in the relaxing room, along with a bottle of wine in a small ice cooler. Mika and Lauren banned electronics from the room, including my Apple watch, since I could (and did) use it to get notifications and check messages, so I left my phone and watch on the kitchen table.
There were no chairs in the relaxing room, just a low table and a little atmospheric wall art. Lauren was able to adopt her fiancée's sitting style, with her feet under her butt on a mat, but with me she used one of the cushions, her legs to the side, the same as me. I'd tried butt-on-heels, but I don't think my body was designed correctly for that. Especially since I'd twisted my ankle in my mid-twenties, and though it had healed completely, stretching my feet behind me returned a little of the pain, which became worse over time.
Lauren poured us wine before we started eating. It was white, dry, and sparkling. "I don't know if this really goes with the food," she said, "but I plan to be drinking it long after I toss out the empties."
"Suits me," I agreed.
"So, you ditched Rachel again?" she asked, conversationally, right as I was taking a bite of spicy chicken, so I couldn't answer for a while.
"I didn't ditch her again," I objected, when I could. "I didn't ditch her the first time. I've never ditched her, because we were never together."
"Really?" Lauren asked. "I had the impression the two of you were getting close."
"So did Rachel, I guess."
"She didn't tell me specifics," Lauren said. "Is that a problem?"
"I don't date, Laur. You know that."
"I know, Mandy," Lauren said. "I just hoped you'd found someone who could have been a first step for you. After Charlotte, I mean. Rachel would never treat you like that."
"You trust her?"
"Yeah, I do," Lauren said. "She's a good friend at work. She's not out at work, so she tells me more than she would if others knew."
"She's not out?"
"No," said Lauren. Then she paused before continuing. "You'll have to ask her, if you want to know why. It's nothing negative about Rachel and the office. But she tells me about her activities. She never has repeat hookups. Never did, before last fall. She's changed."
I grunted. "People don't change."
"Someone's character rarely changes," Lauren countered. "That's true enough. But their behavior can. Rachel abandoned her party drug, and she hasn't mentioned a hookup since late last year."
"She didn't mention New Year?"
Lauren frowned in puzzlement briefly, then, to my surprise, her cheeks pinked. "Oh, right," she said. "That story was so far from the norm I forgot about it. I had a hard time believing it. I wasn't trying to hide it from you."
I laughed. "I'm sure you weren't." I started stacking the empty food boxes. "You know, they propositioned both of us at the wedding. Rachel turned them down on my behalf, but then encouraged me to take them up on Rose's offer."
"A true friend," Lauren said, then raised her glass. "To true friends."
I joined the salute, emptied my glass, then added, "Even if they fuck up your chances of a threesome with a hot rock star and her hot wife. On their wedding night."
Lauren refilled our glasses, then collected the plates. "If memory serves, the evening wasn't a bust for you."
With a grin, I said, "Not a bust. Rachel and I got reacquainted. Very reacquainted. I mean, she owed me, didn't she?"
My friend smiled, then took the plates and food containers to the kitchen, declining help. She took longer than I expected, and I was about to go through to ask again if she could use some help, when she returned with two plates.
"Oh my God, you picked up tiramisu for us? My waistline already hates you."
"DoorDash," she said. "The time I save getting food delivered can go to exercise to counter the calories."
"Did you exercise?"
"Of course not."
I grinned and ate a forkful of creamy, chocolatey, coffee cake. After that, we cleaned up the relaxing room one more time, then moved to the living room, where Lauren rented a movie.
We finished the first bottle and moved onto the second. We were well into the giggly stage of the evening when Mika returned. She complained about not having time to catch up with us, but helped herself to wine and watched the rest of the movie with us.
As always, Mika watched me stumble home. I turned to wave goodbye, then headed into my cottage and collapsed onto the bed.