Arasha was a huge fan of late call times. Whenever the call time was later than 10 a.m., the morning felt ripe with possibilities; she could go to the gym before work; she could clean her apartment; she could make her own healthy lunch to bring to the office. Not that she ever did any of that, of course; in reality, late call times just meant feeling less bad about staying up late watching reality TV.

She was never going to be motivated like Shayne, going to the gym at the ass crack of dawn to lift weights and listen to audio books; or organized like Selina, who somehow left every room tidier than she found it; or dedicated like Garrett, bringing in vegan lunches full of colorful veggies.

Instead, she came barreling into the Smosh offices at 10.02 a.m. on a Tuesday, officially two minutes late to an already late call time. It was no secret that most of the cast members had a loosey goosey relationship with time; but Arasha was still technically one of the new kids, and she was still trying to show that she respected the schedule. Thankfully, she wasn’t last to arrive, and once she’d dropped her stuff off at her desk, she headed to the kitchen for coffee.

Late call times allowed plenty of time to swing by a Starbucks on the way to the office; but did she do that? No. She slept an extra 15 minutes instead. She’d regretted making that decision countless times, and today was no different. The coffee at Smosh was excellent; even after they’d run out of My Favorite Coffee, Ian made sure they only stocked the good stuff.

However, the mug situation was dire, as most of the office had started bringing their own mugs from home. This meant that the mugs that belonged to the company rarely got replaced when they were inevitably broken, and these days there were few survivors left in the kitchen cupboard. Especially for those arriving late, as the people with early call times had already helped themselves.

Arasha was preparing for disappointment as she entered the kitchen, but what she actually got was quite the opposite. A well-shaped ass only half-covered by a pair of black short shorts; and long legs in fishnet tights and thigh-high boots with a killer heel. Then – as the owner of the beforementioned ass and legs stood up fully – long, shiny hair so perfectly platinum blonde that Arasha was briefly blinded by it.

Brianna Boho turned around, giving Arasha an eyeful of her perfectly round boobs fighting gravity in a red, corset-like top. Arasha’s eyes snapped up to look her in the eyes instead, trying desperately to not look like a deer caught in headlights when Brianna spotted her.

“Hey, Arash,” she said, sounding annoyed. “Are there actually no mugs in this entire office? If Smosh can’t even afford dishware, I’m seriously worried about my day rate.”

Arasha hadn’t quite gotten used to Brianna – in fact, she failed to see how anyone could, between her radiant beauty and outrageous personality. Not to mention, Brianna was freelance, so she wasn’t at the offices often enough to be a familiar presence. Whenever she caught herself ogling Brianna, Arasha would tell herself that her crush was just a short-lived infatuation; that she was like a kid wanting a shiny new toy.

She tried to convince herself that if Brianna were a salaried employee and permanent fixture in the office, it would be all the exposure therapy Arasha needed to not get so flustered around her. Sometimes she almost believed it.

Realizing that Brianna was still looking at her expectantly, Arasha cleared her throat awkwardly and nodded. “Mugs. Not easy to come by in this office.”

She folded her arms over her chest, then reconsidered and put her hands in her pockets, reconsidered again and let her arms hang uselessly by her sides. She clenched her fists to fight the urge to fold her arms again.

Brianna raised a perfect eyebrow. “So... No mugs?”

Arasha felt her armpits start to sweat. The awkwardness in her own voice was like nails on a chalkboard when she heard herself say, “Let me find one for you.”

Before Brianna could respond, Arasha rushed out of the kitchen, cursing her own weirdness all the way to the bullpen. She walked up to the first person she saw, which happened to be Ian.

“Good morning, Arasha,” he said, barely looking up from his phone. He was holding a thermal travel mug.

“Mugs,” Arasha said with the immediacy of a doctor in an ICU.

“Mugs was my father, please, call me Ian,” Ian said. “You look stressed, what’s going on?”

“There are no more mugs in the kitchen, and I need a mug. Ideally two mugs. Where can I find a mug?”

Ian seemed to sense that another joke would not be well-received and said, “I left my thermal at home yesterday, so I used one from here; I think it’s still in my office.”

“Thank you!” Arasha all but sprinted away from him.

Ian sipped his coffee. “Kids these days. They love mugs.”

Arasha did indeed find a mug in Ian’s office; it said SHOOT DOOD on it, and there was a bit of cold coffee left at the bottom, but Arasha carried it like it was invaluable treasure.

She reentered the kitchen slightly out of breath, holding the mug aloft. Brianna lit up.

“Oh, yay, you found one!”

“I did,” Arasha said and took the mug to the sink. “It’s dirty, though, let me clean it for you.”

“You don’t have to do that; you know I like it dirty,” Brianna giggled, then looked serious. “I’m just kidding; I would not actually drink from someone’s dirty mug. Or I guess that would depend on whose it was.”

Arasha snorted, washing the mug with warm, soapy water. “It was Ian’s.”

“Hm, not the worst. He is kind of hot in like, a divorced dad kind of way.”

Arasha rinsed the mug off and grabbed a dish towel, drying as fast as she could while still being thorough. Out the corner of her eye, she could tell that Brianna was watching her, twirling a lock of blonde hair around her finger. Finally satisfied with her efforts, she handed the clean mug to Brianna, who thanked her and poured in steaming hot coffee. She took a sip before handing the mug back.

Arasha took the mug automatically, surprised. “Oh, you wanna share it?”

“Yeah, it’s only fair. Unless you don’t feel comfortable.”

“No-no, I’m comfortable. I just- Thank you.”

Arasha sipped the coffee and her eyes closed on their own accord. Fuck, that was really good coffee. She swore she could already feel the caffeine spreading through her body. She gave the mug back to Brianna who just held it.

“It’s a little too hot,” she said, sounding almost awkward. Arasha had no idea she could feel awkward about anything.

For a moment they stood there silently in the kitchen, watching the steam rise out of the mug. Of course, right behind the steam was Brianna’s cleavage, and Arasha’s focus shifted there a few times in spite of her best efforts.

The fridge made a fridge noise and they both startled, then laughed at their own reactions. Arasha desperately tried to think of something to say, but Brianna beat her to it.

“Do you think me and Courtney look alike? I know you guys are friends, so I’m just wondering.”

“Uh, no,” Arasha lied, somehow sensing that that was the correct answer; but wanting to be honest she added, “Maybe in the very beginning, when I first met you. But as I’ve gotten to know you better, I realized that there are more differences than similarities; you’re not even the same kind of blonde.”

Brianna nodded, seemingly satisfied. She sipped from the mug again.

”It kinda bothers me when people compare us; I’m my own person. Also, I don’t see it; for starters, her tatas are supes small compared to mine.” She unsubtly glanced at Arasha’s chest area. “Not that there’s anything wrong with small tits; I have pretty small hands anyway.”

Arasha drew in a breath to say something, then realized the implication of Brianna’s words and froze. Forcing out an awkward laugh, she took out her phone and pretended to read a text. The whole time she felt Brianna’s eyes on her.

Alex Tran appeared in the doorway. “Arasha, we need you on set.”

“Right!” She shoved her phone back in her pocket and gave Brianna a small wave as she followed Alex out. Brianna reached out and barely brushed her arm, but it was enough to stop her dead in her tracks.

“Are you working on Friday?” Brianna asked, smiling sweetly.

“Yeah- Yes. Uh-huh.”

“Me too. You should wear a skirt.”

Arasha choked a little on thin air, then swallowed hard. “Okay,” she squeaked and speedwalked to catch up with Alex, heart pounding in her throat. What the fuck was that?!

▼

Distracted with work, Arasha made it through the rest of the day without thinking much about Brianna; but once she was in the car headed home, she replayed the last bits of their conversation in her head.

“Wear a skirt,” she said out loud to herself as she stopped at a red light. She tapped the steering wheel with her nails, frowning. “’We’re both working on Friday; you should wear a skirt’ – what?”

She kept turning the words in her head, confused about Brianna’s intention. Arasha was wearing jeans and a sweater; did Brianna want her to dress more feminine? What business was that of hers? Brianna was known for speaking her mind, but Arasha hadn’t ever heard her be critical of the way other people dressed, or even give unsolicited advice.

Besides, she’d specifically asked that Arasha wear a skirt not in general, but specifically the next time they were working together. It didn’t make a lot of sense.

All she knew for sure was, when Brianna had looked her in the eyes and said those words, for a brief few seconds she’d felt as if her knees would give out. The words themselves were completely innocuous, but the way they had sounded from Brianna’s glossy lips made Arasha feel woozy.

She put the speculations out of her mind as she pulled into the Ralphs parking lot, focusing instead on remembering the items on the grocery list she’d left at home. By the time she reached the self-checkout, she had all but forgotten her confused feelings from earlier.

▼

Wednesday and Thursday went by in a haze; shooting weeks were always exhausting, but also the best part of her job. She goofed around with her fellow cast members and the crew during the day, and all but passed out in her bed early in the evening.

It wasn’t until she was leaving work Thursday afternoon that she remembered Brianna’s request again: Friday. Wear a skirt. Arasha felt conflicted. On one hand, what a perfectly easy thing to do; she owned several skirts, and wearing one to work wasn’t weird or challenging in any way. But on the other hand, who was Brianna to dictate her wardrobe? And what was the point?

In a moment of déjà vu, Arasha once again found herself in L.A. traffic, unable to shake the feeling that there was more to the situation than fashion. Imagining herself wearing a skirt to the office, nothing; imagining Brianna’s reaction to her wearing a skirt to the office... not nothing.

Brianna was not in charge; if Arasha wore jeans and acted aloof, the worst outcome would be Brianna being mildly disappointed – if she even remembered or cared. But if Arasha complied, then what? Would Brianna praise her? Reward her efforts? Shifting in the car seat, Arasha sucked in a breath; her stomach muscles clenched, and she realized she was getting wet.

Even though there was no way the people in the other cars could know the state she was in, her cheeks still burned with shame. At the next stop light, she briefly squeezed her thighs together and a small moan escaped her, barely audible over the music playing in her car. She wanted nothing more than to get home, dig a toy out of her bedroom drawer, and drill out any confusing thoughts. There was just one thing she had to do first.

Flipping on her turn signal, she turned right at the last possible second, earning a long, angry honk from the driver behind her. “Yup, fair,” she murmured, nodding her head absentmindedly. The sound still rang in her ears minutes later when she walked into TJ Maxx.

.

She had browsed aimlessly for 10 minutes, unsure of what she was even looking for, and politely rejected two different employees’ offers to help. Finally, while she was already looking towards the next rack of clothes, her fingers brushed over something, and she paused. Lifting the hanger off the rack, she ran her hand over the soft black leather, feeling goosebumps rise on the back of her neck. She didn’t hesitate another second before taking the skirt to the fitting rooms.

Safely behind the door of one of the small rooms, she quickly took off her pants and wiggled into the tight skirt, zipping it up in the back. She smoothed her hands down over her thighs and looked in the mirror; it fit as if tailormade for her. It was a little tighter and shorter than what she’d normally wear, snug around her hips and stopping above her knees, but it was still work-appropriate. By Smosh standards anyway.

Turning to check the fit from all angles, she tried to see herself through Brianna’s eyes, taking in the length of her own smooth, brown legs, and the way the tight leather hugged the curve of her ass. A tingling sensation started in her stomach and crept downwards. What would Brianna do when she saw her? What do you want her to do?

Swallowing hard, Arasha leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, unzipping the skirt and slowly pushing it down over her hips, squeezing her thighs together more than she had to. I want her to take it off me. She let the skirt drop and it fell around her ankles, the lining giving off secondhand warmth. She put her pointer finger under the waistband of her underwear, not taking them off, just feeling her finger stroke across her stomach between fabric and soft skin. She imagined Brianna’s finger in its place and huffed out a small breath as she clenched involuntarily. I want her to strip me down completely. I want her to see me, touch me-

Without consciously deciding to, she pressed the heel off her other hand against her crotch. A wave of pleasure rushed over her; her thighs snapped together, trapping her hand in place; and she let out a loud gasp as her knees buckled and she fell into a crouched position. Shuddering as she tried to collect herself, her mouth dropped open in shock and arousal as she teetered on the brink of orgasm.

“Is everything alright in there?” a concerned voice asked from the other side of the flimsy door, and Arasha scrambled to stand upright, frantically pulling her sweater down in case the employee decided to come in.

“Everything’s great! I can’t believe how good I look in this skirt, haha,” she fake-laughed, fully aware of how deranged her voice sounded.

“Okay,” the employee said doubtfully, before walking away, her footsteps growing quieter until they couldn’t be heard at all.

Arasha looked at her own reflection once more, letting go of the hem of her sweater; it slipped back up where it belonged, revealing her grey cotton underwear. A diamond shaped stain of sticky wetness bloomed from the crotch, darkening the fabric. She took a deep breath, swallowing down the hot shame that threatened to rise within her, already making her stomach churn.

She put her pants back on, put the leather skirt back on the hanger, and left the dressing room trying to look as casual as possible. Then she took her find to the register and paid for it, not even hearing the price before swiping her card.

▼

Friday morning Arasha stood next to her bed as the clock ticked mercilessly closer to the time she had to leave for work. She was freshly showered; her hair blow-dried; her makeup done; and her teeth brushed. There was nothing left to do except get dressed; but once she did, there would be no turning back from the decision she was about to make.

She shifted her eyes back and forth between the two outfits she’d laid out: One with pants and one with The Skirt. They were both genuine options; she could just put on the jeans she’d worn dozens of times and go to work like she did any other day. And always wonder in the back of your mind what Brianna wanted. Arasha groaned, shuffling her feet; she really needed to leave soon.

“Fuck, shit, fuck,” she said through gritted teeth, grabbing the skirt from the bed. She got dressed, pointedly not looking in the mirror before leaving, in case the sight made her change her mind again.

When she walked through the doors of the Smosh offices, she felt a small sting of panic, but managed to calm herself enough to keep walking. “You are normal,” she said under her breath, stretching out the syllables.

Hoping to dress down the skirt a bit, she’d paired it with a loose-fitting graphic tee that she’d tucked in, and a pair of sneakers to really sell the look as casual. The whole drive over, she’d reassured herself that this was an unassuming outfit, and that none of her coworkers would even notice; she believed it right until she walked onto the Games stage.

“Wow, Arasha,” Courtney said, immediately staring right at the skirt with an appreciative look on their face. “What the hell, you look hot!”

“I don’t normally look hot?” Arasha replied, pretending to be offended.

Spencer grinned at her. “You should have told me it was Sexy Skirt Friday; I would have worn mine.”

“I’m sure we would have all loved to see that,” Tommy drawled as he entered the room, sounding like he wasn’t entirely joking. “Arasha, that skirt is fire.”

Arasha thanked them all in her most nonchalant tone, feeling somewhat relieved now that she’d survived her coworkers’ initial reactions. They all turned their attentions to Spencer, who was summarizing the rules to the board game they’d definitely all prepared to play for the day’s video. Just as he finished, Brianna walked in, boot heels loud against the concrete floor.

“Guys, I’m so sorry I’m late; my nail tech was telling me about her bonkers Tinder date, and I just had to hear the end of the story.”

“That’s.. fine,” Spencer said, never quite sure how to deal with Brianna. “I think we’re ready to start, so take your seats, please.”

Brianna dropped her bag on a chair out of frame and brushed past Arasha as she approached the Games table.

“Nice skirt,” she said casually.

“Thanks, it’s new,” Arasha said without thinking, then instantly regretted ever learning to speak.

Brianna stopped in her tracks and looked back at her, lips curving up in a sly smile. She didn’t say anything else, but there was no doubt that she knew what that implied. Arasha’s face burned as she took her seat, powerless to do anything but focus up and get through the video without disintegrating under Brianna’s assessing gaze.

▼

“Where exactly are we going?” Arasha asked, hoping she sounded breezy in spite of feeling anything but. It was lunch time, and everyone’s food orders had arrived; but before she could go to the seating area where everyone else had already gathered, Brianna had pulled her aside.

“I told you, silly, we’re just going to the bathroom.”

Arasha had gone to the bathroom with other girls countless times, but not at work and certainly never with Brianna. On top of that, they were headed in the wrong direction. Unless…

Arasha’s heart skipped a beat. In the other end of the building was a bathroom that no one ever used. There was nothing terribly wrong with it, but it was just far enough from both the stages and the bullpen that using it was inconvenient timewise. Arasha had only used it once, out of desperation, when the other bathrooms were occupied minutes before a livestream, and her bladder threatened to fail her.

She suspected that other people might use it for bathroom emergencies as well, so she was grateful to only smell floral scented cleaning products when Brianna opened the door and pulled her inside.

The room was weirdly L-shaped, and the sole ceiling light hung immediately above the toilet, bathing you in fluorescent lighting as you did your business, while then keeping you in ominous shadows as you washed your hands. Arasha considered all these factors with the critical eye of a dedicated Selling Sunset viewer, until she was gently backed up against the sink. Brianna’s face was inches from her own, a soft smile playing on her lips.

“Arasha, did you wear a skirt because I told you to?” she asked innocently.

“Y-yes.”

Brianna’s smile widened and she leaned in closer. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please,” Arasha breathed, and she only just managed to hold back a whimper when Brianna brought their mouths together.

Brianna’s hands found her waist, thumbs gently stroking up and down, while her soft lips moved against Arasha’s. When her tongue swiped over Arasha’s bottom lip, she let it in immediately, and Brianna rewarded her with a pleased moan. Taking this as permission to let go, Arasha responded with her own sounds of pleasure as her shaky hands came to rest on Brianna’s shoulders.

You are making out with Brianna in the bathroom at work! A voice in her head stated redundantly, but before she could properly process how bad of an idea it might be, Brianna broke the kiss.

“Tell me if you wanna stop,” she all but gasped out, but in spite of her eagerness, she waited for a response before doing anything. Arasha nodded rapidly, brain foggy with arousal, and Brianna smiled and carefully rucked Arasha’s skirt up to her waist.

She kneeled on the floor in front of her, taking in her half-dressed body with a look of hunger; her soft hands caressed Arasha’s thighs, sending pleasant chills up her spine. She hooked her pointer fingers into the waistband of Arasha’s underwear, looking up at her with an expression that could best be described as giddy.

“Can I take these off?”

Arasha willed herself not to be self-conscious and nodded slowly, holding her breath as the flimsy black fabric was pulled down her hips and thighs. Even in the half-light, the patch of slick wetness on the inside of the panties was conspicuous enough to catch Brianna’s eye. Brianna sighed happily at the sight and bit her lip, carefully removing the underwear completely and tucking them halfway into the waistband of her own shorts for safekeeping.

Arasha’s legs broke out in goosebumps as she found herself naked from the waist down, aside from her scuffed up sneakers, fully on display for the woman she’d been crushing on for going on a year. Against all odds, her nerves were dissipating, replaced entirely with the awareness of a dull but insistent throb between her legs that was begging for attention. She couldn’t remember ever being this turned on in her entire-

“Hold my gum.” Brianna didn’t wait for an answer but took her used gum out of her mouth and unceremoniously handed it to Arasha.

Holding another person’s wet, chewed-up gum between two fingers almost brought Arasha crashing back to reality, but then Brianna gently brushed a knuckle against her wet folds, instantly wiping her mind. She inhaled sharply as her hips stuttered, blushing as Brianna giggled.

Some of her bravado seemed to fade as she looked up at Arasha, holding up both hands to show off her long, sharp nails.

“I can’t really finger anyone without turning them into shish kebab,” she said apologetically, giving Arasha a hopeful look. “Can I eat your pussy?”

Arasha almost choked on an inbreath and barely managed a weak “Yes”, hands gripping the sink behind her. Brianna hummed happily and pushed Arasha’s legs slightly further apart before leaning in and giving her an experimental lick.

“You’re so wet,” she murmured. “And you taste so good.”

Arasha felt like she was on fire, and she could give no audible response before Brianna leaned back in, working her tongue in between her folds as she nudged her clit with the tip of her nose. Arasha hissed and closed her eyes, already overwhelmed by the pleasure building between her legs.

Brianna pressed closer, slipping her tongue inside Arasha’s pussy and curling it upwards in a move that had Arasha whimpering and squeezing her eyes tighter shut. It was almost too much, and yet she begged Brianna not to stop. She moaned with every clench of her inner walls, pulsing around Brianna’s textured tongue. Time and place lost all meaning; the only sound she registered was Brianna’s beautiful moans, as enraptured as if she was the one being eaten out within an inch of her life.

With her sharp nails carefully resting against Arasha’s taut stomach, she used the pad of her thumb to rub circles above her clit, while lapping up the wetness steadily flowing onto her tongue. When Arasha’s moans got more frantic, to the point where she finally slapped a hand over her mouth, Brianna instead let her lips envelop the sensitive bud and sucked.

Arasha yelped as her orgasm hit her all at once, and she rolled her hips, helplessly pressing herself firmer against Brianna’s mouth. “Fu-uck! Oh my god, oh my-“ She let out a high-pitched moan, fighting the overstimulation for another second or two before gently pushing Brianna away, knees buckling.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Brianna cooed, hands supporting the backs of her thighs. Brianna watched with eyes dark with desire as Arasha came back down to earth, resting her chin lightly on Arasha’s shaking thigh. When Arasha seemed more steady on her feet, Brianna placed a kiss against her swollen pussy lips.

“Good job, cutie,” she cooed, seemingly addressing her pussy directly. ”You came so much for me.”

Arasha’s face heated up in embarrassment, but she couldn’t help but smile softly as Brianna stood up and faced her again. She leaned in almost hesitantly, as if she wasn’t sure if Arasha would allow it; but Arasha quickly closed the distance between them and welcomed the kiss, tasting herself on Brianna’s lips and tongue. She felt dizzy as the strum of her orgasm slowly faded.

She pulled back, shyly meeting Brianna’s eyes. “Holy shit…”

Brianna nodded and kissed her again. They stood there for a moment, lazily making out until Arasha broke the kiss again. “Do you want me to… I mean, I’ve never- I’m sure I could figure it out?”

Brianna giggled, shaking her head. “Don’t worry about it; we should probably head back before people start looking for us.”

Arasha nodded, trying not to look disappointed. “Are your knees okay?”

“Oh yeah, these things basically have callouses at this point,” Brianna said, then grimaced and added, “In like, a hot way.”

“Sure,” Arasha said with a grin; she has a hard time picturing anything that she wouldn’t find hot about Brianna at this point.

Brianna tucked Arasha’s underwear free from her own waistband and bent down to help her step into them, pulling them up over her legs as gently as she had pulled them off. Underwear in place, Brianna let Arasha fix the rest of her clothes to look presentable, while washing her hands and face over the sink.

“I wanna see you again,” Arasha said, absentmindedly wiping beads of sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand.

“Most people do,” Brianna said in a singsong tone, reaching for a paper towel, but there was a flatness to it, like she didn’t really believe it. “You probably think I do this all the time...”

“I don’t think that. And I don’t wanna see you again just to hook up; I’d like to take you on a date.”

Brianna looked taken aback; there was something vulnerable in her eyes. “Really?”

For a second the façade slipped; the skimpy clothes were a costume, the flawless makeup a mask; and there was a glimpse of the real Brianna. An ordinary person, presumably with an unassuming real last name, and a wealth of real human feelings. Arasha wanted to tell her that she believed, very genuinely, that this person deserved a chance to be known and even loved, but it felt like too much for a post-cunnilingus bathroom conversation, so she just said,

“Yeah, if you want to. If you don’t that’s okay, no pressure; but yeah, really, I really wanna go on a date with you. If you want.”

Brianna took a deep breath. “I wanna go to Red Lobster.”

“Deal,” Arasha said with a grin.

They exchanged one more quick kiss, then Brianna opened the bathroom door and gestured for Arasha to go first. She did but paused briefly in the doorway. “Do you want your gum?”

“Oh,” Brianna unstuck the gum from Arasha’s outstretched fingers and seemed to think about it for a moment before throwing it in the bathroom trash can. “Thanks for holding onto it, but… I think I wanna keep the taste of you a little longer.”

.

In the seating area, everyone had pretty much finished eating and were talking and joking around, but when Arasha and Brianna walked up, a lot of the conversation died down. Amanda gave them an analytical look as they took their seats, narrowing her eyes slightly.

“Your food’s getting cold. What have you been up to?”

Arasha immediately felt panic set in, but Brianna’s foot lightly pressed against hers under the table, grounding her.

“Good thing I ordered a salad then,” Brianna said, her face and voice as calm as ever. “My Diva cup was stuck and Arasha was nice enough to help me get it out. Guess I gotta lay off the Kegels.”

Every muscle in Arasha’s body instantly tightened with humiliation, and she wondered if maybe the truth wouldn’t have been less embarrassing after all; but at least her coworkers all decided that this explanation beckoned exactly zero follow-up questions. They ate their food in silence while conversation slowly started up again around them, occasionally sneaking shy glances at each other.

▼ After evading their texts all weekend, Arasha was cornered by Courtney in the office kitchen early Monday morning. They held the last mug hostage until Arasha finally caved and told them the truth.

“I knew it! I knew that Diva cup story was bullshit!”

“Will you keep your voice down?!” Arasha said, gesturing wildly. “I’m not ready for the whole office to find out about it!”

“Then why did you fuck at work?!” Courtney squealed but did lower their voice considerably. “I can’t believe it finally happened; I didn’t expect it to happen in the weird bathroom, but-“

“Finally? What do you mean ‘finally’?”

Courtney gave her an overbearing look. “Brianna has been trying to flirt with you for ages; I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but she made me swear not to.”

Arasha supported herself on the kitchen island. “For ages? How did I not notice?”

“She kept saying ‘We accept the love we think we deserve’; but that was right after Shayne made her read The Perks of Being a Wallflower, so I’m not sure it was directly related.”

After securing the mug and filling it with coffee, Arasha went to her desk and sat down. She pulled out her phone and called Brianna, hoping she wasn’t waking her up.

▼ For all her confidence when she asked Brianna out, Arasha had gotten increasingly nervous in the hours leading up to the date. She had changed her outfit several times, seriously considering wearing The Skirt again, but worried that it was sending the wrong signal. In the end, she had put on a dark green jumpsuit that made her look slightly overdressed, but there was no time for regret, as she had to leave for Brianna’s.

Brianna had done a photoshoot earlier in the day, taking place in the opposite direction of Arasha’s place. To make things easier on her, Arasha drove to her place, and they would leave together from there. They could have met at the restaurant, but Brianna had insisted on driving them in her gold Miata.

Arasha had showed up exactly on time, and when Brianna had opened the door, she’d kissed Arasha with the enthusiasm of a woman starved.

Red Lobster was unusually busy for a Wednesday night, and while Arasha had felt ridiculous making a reservation, she was grateful for it when she and Brianna pulled into the parking lot. Once they were seated across from each other in the restaurant, conversation had flowed, and neither of them noticed or cared how long they had to wait for their food.

Arasha’s earlier nervousness was nowhere to be felt, and she couldn’t remember ever being this at ease on a date. They knew each other well enough that there wasn’t a lot of explaining to do; but not so well that there were no stories to tell. They got each other’s jokes and references, and they related to each other’s experiences. There were no awkward silences; when they paused the conversation to eat a few bites of their almost forgotten meals, it was comfortable.

When Brianna went to the bathroom near the end of the meal, Arasha smoothly paid the bill before she came back. She had an inkling that Brianna made more money than she did, but she couldn’t care less; she had suggested the date, and she was going to be old school about it and hope Brianna found it more charming than archaic.

Brianna did. When she returned from the bathroom and found the bill covered, along with a generous tip, she gave Arasha a heated look and shrugged her jacket on.

“Let’s get out of here, stud.”

.

On the drive to Brianna’s place, the conversation was broken up by longer and longer silences, as the atmosphere in the car grew thick with sexual tension. As soon as they had arranged to meet, Arasha had strictly told herself not to assume that the date would end with sex. She had wanted to have zero expectations and let Brianna lead, ensuring that there was no pressure, and that Brianna did not for one second think that Arasha only wanted her physically.

Now, sitting in the car together, Arasha felt sweaty under her collar. She observed Brianna shift in her seat, tap her fingers along to the song playing on the radio, and every so often glance at Arasha with a secretive smile, all while effortlessly driving stick. She looked as restless as Arasha felt, so when she parked outside her house, Arasha wasn’t surprised to hear her say,

“Don’t go yet.”

Arasha smiled. “Okay, I won’t. Do you want me to come inside for a bit?”

“No,” Brianna said, too quickly, then laughed nervously. “I mean, no, let’s just sit here for a bit.”

“Okay?” Arasha unbuckled her seatbelt and got as comfortable as she could. She was still feeling the sexual tension, but now confusion was starting to creep in. Brianna picked at a nail, not making eye contact, and Arasha finally realized what was going on.

“Brianna, are you nervous?”

Brianna sighed and made an exasperated gesture. “Yes, okay! You know most people I go out with just jump me at this point; I’m so stupidly horny, do I really have to make the first move? Again?”

Arasha laughed and couldn’t stop once she’d started; eventually it set Brianna off too, and they giggled helplessly for a minute or so before regaining some semblance of control. Arasha shuffled closer until her thigh was pressed against the console between their seats. She reached out and tugged a lock of Brianna’s hair behind her ear.

“Brianna, do you want me to jump you?”

Brianna pouted childishly. “No…”

“Then tell me what you want.”

“I want you to make me come,” she said shakily, looking down. “I want your fingers inside me, and I want you to kiss me.”

Arasha leaned in to kiss her and Brianna met her halfway, making a desperate sound against her lips. They stopped kissing so Brianna could wiggle out of her jacket and throw it into the backseat. The straps of her dress slipped off her shoulders on their own, and she pushed the rest of the dress down to her hips as to not be restrained. Her tits were spilling out over the cups of her bra, and Arasha couldn’t take her eyes off them.

“I know you said you wanted fingers, but…”

Brianna followed her gaze down to her chest and nodded. “I want everything.”

Brianna slipped off the straps and pushed the bra down as well, not bothering to open it. Arasha kissed her again, hungrier this time, mouth traveling down her neck to her collarbone. She paused to allow Brianna to stop her, but instead she made an impatient noise that nearly made Arasha laugh again.

She placated Brianna by slipping a hand under her dress, pressing her fingers lightly against the front of her underwear. The soft lace was soaking wet, and Arasha swore she could feel her pulse as she pressed down harder. Brianna whimpered and pushed Arasha’s hand away, maneuvering herself out of the panties with impressive efficiency.

“Keep going, please don’t stop,” she said like a prayer, and Arasha leaned down and took Brianna’s nipple in her mouth.

She sucked lightly at first, experimentally, and flicked it with her tongue, tasting sweetness and salt on Brianna’s skin. She let her hand wander back between Brianna’s legs, finding her wet and wanting, no longer obstructed by lace.

She wanted to remind Brianna that this was a first for her, that she didn’t know what she was doing, and that she might be terrible; but soothed by soft sounds already spilling from Brianna’s mouth, she let her instincts take over. Slipping her fingertips between Brianna’s folds, she gently brushed against her clit and was rewarded by a desperate keening sound. Letting her thumb stroke her clit continuously, Arasha pushed one finger inside of her, and, when she met little resistance, added another.

She pumped them slowly in and out, finding a steady rhythm that made Brianna shiver and curse under her breath. One of her hands found the back of Arasha’s neck and pushed her firmer against her chest. Arasha sucked harder on her nipple and pumped her fingers faster, keeping the heel of her hand constantly pressed against Brianna’s clit.

Brianna thrust her hips against the moving hand, moans rising in volume, and her pussy clenched tighter around Arasha’s fingers with every roll of her hips.

“Don’t stop, I’m coming,” she gasped. “I’m coming, I’m-“

Arasha remembered the other part of her request last second and pulled away from her chest, capturing Brianna’s mouth in a searing kiss instead. Her pussy clenched hard enough to almost lock Arasha’s fingers in place and she thrashed in her seat, whining against Arasha’s lips as she rode out her orgasm.

When Arasha broke the kiss, she let out a growling moan, eyes still squeezed shut, and she closed her thighs to keep Arasha’s hand in place. “Wait, wait, wait, just…”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Arasha chuckled, pressing soft kisses to her neck.

She didn’t move her hand, just kept it where Brianna wanted it and let her use it as she pleased, occasionally pressing against it with a sigh. Eventually Brianna took a deep breath and shifted backwards in her seat, and Arasha withdrew her hand. Her fingers and palm were coated in sticky juices, and she felt an almost painful sting of pleasure when she put her fingers in her mouth to taste.

Brianna, who had just pulled a pack of wet wipes out of the door pocket, froze in place and watched her with half lidded eyes, making a small noise in her throat. Arasha blushed, taking a wet wipe and cleaning off her hand.

“Why do you get so embarrassed?” Brianna asked. She wasn’t judging; her tone was genuine and curious.

“What do you mean?”

“When you say something weird in a video, you always freeze up for a second; you don’t laugh it off, you let other people laugh at it instead. When people compliment you, you look like you regret earning it. And when I ate your pretty pussy…”

Arasha averted her gaze, feeling her face heat up, and she grimaced. Brianna laughed, stroking her cheek soothingly. Gently, she cupped Arasha’s jaw and turned her face back towards her.

“…when I ate your pretty pussy,” she repeated, holding eye contact. “I could tell how much you wanted it, but you were so self-conscious.”

“In all fairness, I was half naked at my job.”

Brianna giggled. “And I’ll admit it wasn’t the most elegant way I could have gone about it; but can you honestly say you would have been more confident if I had laid you down on a fourposter bed?”

“Probably not…”

“Right,” Brianna took her hand and held it. “You just made me come so hard, I almost jumped out of my seat. And you sucked your fingers, and it was so hot! You have nothing to be embarrassed about; you’re great. Not just at making me come, everything about you; I like you so much.”

The warmth in Arasha’s face started to seep down into her chest, curling around her heart. “I’m a little confused. We had a great date; you didn’t want me to come inside, which I respect; but then you still wanted to hook up; and now it sounds like… you wanna keep seeing me?”

“Of course, I wanna keep seeing you! I thought that was obvious; I know I have a reputation, but I actually don’t put out for every pretty girl who buys me lobster.”

“When you didn’t invite me inside, I guess I thought you were setting some kind of boundary.”

“Ah, no, Bryce is sleeping on my couch,” Brianna said with a small shrug. “I really wanted you to fuck me, and I knew he’d hear us if we went to my bedroom.”

Arasha blinked. “That’s why we did it here? It’s not because you’re don’t want something serious with me?”

“I don’t wanna rush into a relationship, and I don’t wanna skip over anything, but I wanna give this a shot. And if Bryce wasn’t posted up in my living room watching Golden Girls, I’d gladly invite you in.”

“Oh. Why is Bryce sleeping on your couch?”

Brianna rolled her eyes. “He and his boyfriend Gaige are fighting because Bryce spent a month’s worth of rent money on a Swarovski jockstrap.”

“We lead very different lives.”

Brianna leaned over the console and kissed her. “I know, isn’t it exciting?”

Arasha laughed. “It is pretty exciting.”

Brianna looked pleased. She leaned in for another kiss and they made out in the car for a while longer, barely registering the occasional passing car. Arasha found that she wasn’t concerned at all about being seen.