Cultural Exchange 3 - A New Friend (Patreon)

When I opened the message, it had already been seen, and three dots flashed on the screen.

"Shime! I think you made a mistake. I love your mistakes!" was Clara's response to my highly inappropriate image. I thought about deleting it, but it was too late anyhow. The reality was that it turned me on like crazy to have her see me like that.

After reading her message, I wondered about what it meant for us. Did she really like it or was it just a joke to her? How would that change our brand new relationship?

A message from Clara pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts: "I'm at goûter; we'll chat in a bit." 

I had to Google what 'goûter' meant; apparently, it's a French custom of having a mid-afternoon snack. I found it charming.

Trying to walk back to my bed, I tripped on the toy that had landed between my feet. It made me realize I had left Marcos waiting for the picture, and I immediately sent it. I waited for his reply, but it didn't come. As the minutes passed without a word from him, my stomach sank as I thought about how I had left him hanging in the worst possible way.

Normally I would pester any guy who dared leave me on seen, but this was Marcos; he wasn't a teenage boy throwing a tantrum. That train of thought made my nerves settle.

Soon after, my phone buzzed with a message from Dad: "Breakfast's ready." So I put my PJs on and walked downstairs.

While I was having breakfast with my parents, I got a message from Clara. I was somewhat afraid to open it, since I knew it could be NSFW. Still, I opened it, and it was just a short text. "I'm free if you want to video call," she said.

I sent her a picture of the breakfast table with my parents smiling for her with the caption, "Give me a few; I'm feeding my landlords." Clara replied with a laughing emoji.

After breakfast I was getting ready for a shower when I got a message; it was from Marcos: "Sorry, I had a visitor. We'll talk later." It felt reassuring. Still, I couldn't help but wonder who that 'visitor' was on an early Sunday morning.

My heart skipped a beat when I realized that the possibility of him having a woman over at his place made me uncomfortable; maybe even a little jealous.

With barely enough time to go down that rabbit hole, I received a message from Clara; it was a yawning emoji, which I replied to with a laughing one.

With a bit of fear regarding what the call would be like, I pressed the video button in our chat. She picked up immediately and gave me an enthusiastic greeting: "Shime! So long since I've heard from you. Is everything alright?"

She immediately put me at ease with her bubbly energy. "Yes, I'm ok. I'm sorry about the pic; it was meant for someone else," I said.

She was sitting on a lawn chair in what I assumed was her backyard; she was sipping a glass of wine, and I could hear her family talking and laughing in the background. I felt both relieved and disappointed that we wouldn't have privacy. I was still unsure what I wanted out of this new friendship.

"Oh, no. Don't tell me that; I thought we had something special!" She said as she giggled.

"We do, really! I love you with all my heart and soul, but our love is too great not to be shared!" I replied.

A tense silence made its way into our conversation, and we both broke it in unison: "Jajajajaja!!!" 

"Oh, Shime, you must watch too many telenovelas; your drama skills are incredible," Clara said when she was able to finish laughing.

"I know, I'm a drama queen, but only for the laughs!" I replied.

"So, are you going to tell me about the lucky man (or woman) that was meant to receive that hot message?" She asked; her bluntness caught me off guard.

All the possible answers, including fake stories, ran wild in my head. Maybe a former boyfriend or a Tinder match; after what felt like an eternity, she broke the silence once more. "I was just curious; you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"No, it's alright," I said. "It was for Marcos. He's the one that gave me the toy. That's why it's called Marc," I replied.

"Oh, Marcos, tell me more. Who is he?" She said, her eager eyes looking at me as she took a sip of her wine.

Her charm disarmed me; maybe it was her sexy French speech or her mesmerizing eyes. Maybe just the fact that she was a stranger still with zero connection to my actual life; I still don't know why, but I told her everything.

I began to tell the story of Marcos, my Dad's best friend and a constant presence in my life for the longest time, and her face lit up.

When I told her about how Marcos basically strong-armed my dad into accepting the trip, she interjected. "That seems weird. Why would your Dad be so against it, and suddenly he talked him into supporting the exchange? Sounds to me like there's something they're not sharing," she said.

"I haven't thought about that. Maybe I was too focused on myself to really pay attention to it. We should really talk about it. If we manage to keep our clothes on," I replied.

That's when I started talking about the idea of being her slave. She looked around and said, "Wait a little Shime," and stood up from her chair and took me on a trip around her house. When we were in her bedroom, she said, "Now you can share all the sexy details; no one will hear."

And share I did. She got the full story, all the naughty details, and I confessed how it all made me feel.

Talking to someone else about my relationship with my Dad's best friend made it all too real. But it was also liberating.

When I finished the story, she asked, "So, are you in love with Marcos Shime?"

"NO! No. I mean, I would know, right? No, I think it's just too tempting to fool around with an older man. Even more if I have to sneak around for him," I said.

"Oh, yeah, les hommes mûrs sont à croquer. Mature men are delicious! More decisive, less clingy. But you end up missing the stamina sometimes, if you get my meaning. Just be careful; your Mom and Dad would go crazy if they found out," she said. "So no reply to that sexy photo?"

"Nothing yet," I said. "But I'm sure I'll get a tribute soon enough."

"And, uhm, the tributes, do you save them?" She asked, and I could see her eyes lit up.

"No, the only one he sent was a one-time video," I replied. I could see the disappointment in her eyes.

"I guess I could ask for a regular video next time if you want to see what it looks like," I said, and the thought of her getting turned on by my and Marcos' shenanigans made my pussy tingle.

"If you want. I don't; I mean, I don't know him; I don't know if he'll want to..." she said.

"I'm sure he'll do whatever I ask of him. Do you want to see it?" I asked.

"Yes, I would love to see your Marcos jerking and cumming to a picture of you," she said confidently.

As my head spun with the fantasy of Clara and me exploring our sexuality, a new question came to my mind. "So, older men are delicious? Sounds like there's some story to share there," I said. A mischievous grin spread across my face and for the first time I saw Clara struggling to come up with an answer as she blushed.

"I thought you missed that. Uhm, yeah, there was one guy, I mean there is. It's an on and off kind of situation," she said.

"Sounds complicated," I replied. I noticed she had trouble looking at the camera, something that hadn't happened before, not even when she was naked. This felt somewhat more intimate and personal than that for her.

"It really isn't. Not always. There's this man, Laurent, he's way older than me and we started like you and Marcos, flirting, texting, nothing too serious. Until we were alone together and we couldn't resist the sexual tension. It was amazing, and messy. And that's all the details I'm going to give now. Maybe when we meet in person and we both have a glass of wine I can tell you the full story," she said. The curiosity was killing me. I wanted to know more about Laurent, but I needed to respect her boundaries.

"So, shouldn't you be preparing some baked goods?" She asked. I noticed the change of subject immediately but said nothing about it.

"I really should, but I'm having too much fun. Hey, do you happen to know some French pastry recipes? I think I could rack up some serious cash with some secret French patisserie," I said.

"Actually not every French person knows how to bake. Or do you know how to make tacos? Or how to make tequila?" She replied. Her serious tone caught me off-guard and made me realize how much of a cliche that was.

"You know what? You're right; I'm sorry, totally my bad," I said.

A tense silence hung between us for a moment, and our gaze met once more. "JAJAJAJAJA! You're just too funny, Shime!" She said, and a relieved smile formed on my face.

"Ok, I love these video calls, but I really do need to go ahead and make some tequila and tacos," I said.

"Yeah, and I need to go and make sure the national croissant-per-capita index stays healthy," Clara replied.

We both laughed and hung up.

I lay in bed thinking about how easy it was to talk to Clara and how little we had in common, yet it felt as if we had the longest friendship.

Suddenly my mind went back to the image of her, standing naked in front of the mirror, without shame or concern. Her sexy ass and her glistening, bushy vagina. Maybe the next time we'll talk, I could slip in the conversation something about experimenting with girls. Maybe.

I forced the image of my sensual new friend naked out of my mind and went about my day. She was right after all; I needed to work hard in order to achieve my goals.

When I came out of the shower, a new message awaited me on my phone; it was from Clara. "Same time tomorrow?"

I quickly replied with, "Sure thing, I have a topic to discuss; we'll need privacy."

"Oh, naughty, I'll set up the bathtub then," she said.

"I don't have a bathtub, but I can match the energy," I said.

"It's a date," she replied, and with that we finished the conversation.

Since it was already well past noon, I had missed the morning rush to sell my baked goods. Instead, I focused on setting everything up for the evening sale of hot wings and salchipulpos.

As I was slicing the sausages into little octopuses, I laughed at the thought of explaining the concept of salchipulpos to Clara. I snapped a pic of the cutting board covered in chopped-up sausage and sent it to Clara with the caption, "Remind me to tell you about this on our call tomorrow."

"Is that why we need privacy? You're naughtier than I thought!" she replied.

"LOL, no. Totally unrelated. Just thinking of you," I said.

"Thinking of me while slaughtering saucisse? Now I'm confused," she replied.

"I'll explain tomorrow; this one is not naughty," I said.

"Can't wait. I'm off to sleep; it's already close to midnight for me," she said. I hadn't really thought about how late it was for her now that I was starting my evening sale.

"Sleep tight, dream of me," I said.

"Of you and saucisse, good night," she replied.

The rest of the afternoon passed in the blur that always came with preparing for the evening rush.

Business was good that night, the sales were exceptional for a Sunday; I even made up for the lazy morning with my parents and Clara. When I entered my room, I got naked and slipped into bed with the idea of having fun with Marc. Instead, as soon as my head touched the pillow, my body demanded sleep, and I obliged.

The morning came too fast. My alarm clock was set at 5:30, since I had to start baking and have some pastries ready for 9 AM, when my virtual shop would officially open.

I grabbed my phone and opened my bedroom door when I remembered I was naked. I immediately closed it again and put on my baking outfit: some old leggings and one of my dad's t-shirts. I never bothered wearing a bra that early in the morning since I was usually alone until after 8 AM.

My morning went by as usual, with loads of baking and a lot of heat from the oven. After a few hours I had a kitchen full of pastries.

Mom had already come down and given me a little scolding for not wearing a bra, but I know she doesn't mind. Before dad was ready to go to work, I rushed to shower in order to start delivering. I entered the bathroom and stood naked, paying attention to my phone for the first time since I turned off the alarm.

I was a little disappointed to see no message from Marcos, but what I did have was a message from Clara. "Good morning, Shime! I hope you have fun today making tacos and cutting saucisse. See you soon!"

Her message warmed my heart, and I entered the shower with the broadest smile I could form.

As I left the shower, I grabbed my phone and replied to her text. "I just got out of the shower, and I'm ready to start my business day. What are you up to?" I said.

"Not much, hanging with the family. We wanted to go to the beach, but Il fait un temps de chien," she replied.

Google helped me with that last expression. It literally meant "it's dog weather," so probably it's a way of saying it's raining dogs and cats.

"I'm so sorry for that. Are we still having our call later?" I asked.

"Yes, sure! I already picked a glass of wine to have with you. Are you having wine with me?" she asked. I hadn't really considered it, and, even though it was early morning on a Monday for me, I decided to accept the French way and have a glass of wine as I talked to my friend.

"I'll have something ready. Now I have to run; orders are starting to come in," I replied, and it was true. I already had 3 messages asking for pastries, and I had to start delivering.

Before packing the orders, I snapped a pic of the table filled with sweet bread and sent it to her. "It may not be French patisserie, but it's good enough for pan de dulce," I sent along with the image.

"Oh, that looks delicious; you have to bring some for us," she replied.

"I'll do you one better. I'll be the first Mexican to teach patisserie to a French family," I said.

"Oh, my parents will love you forever; with cocktails and patisserie, they might want to adopt you," she replied.

"Just them?" I said.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you and me to be sisters," she said. Her reply left me a bit confused. I was starting to write a reply when more orders started coming through, and I had to hurry.

"Ok, we'll talk later; I have to run," I sent but didn't wait for a reply. I really had to run.

While I was working, my mind kept returning to her last message. Did she mean it in a playful, flirty way or was there something behind it. Maybe she was having second thoughts about where we were taking things. I tried focusing as much as I could on my duties, but my mind kept bouncing back to that damn message.

Once the morning rush was over, on my last delivery of the day, I stopped by a store and picked up some cheap wine I love and brought it home.

Mom saw me walk in, bottle in hand, and shot me a little smirk. "Aren't we getting a little too French there?"

"I'm just trying to keep the cultural shock to a minimum," I replied.

"Ha-ha, very funny. What are you up to, anyway?" She asked. There was no avoiding her.

"Clara and I are going to have a video call. And we figured sharing a glass of wine was a good idea," I replied, as honestly as I could without scaring her.

"Ok, but keep it to a single glass. I don't want to have a drunk teenager in my house," she said. While I grabbed a glass for the wine, I winked at her and walked towards the stairs. "I'm serious, just one glass!" she shouted when I was just about to enter my room.

My heart pounded while I grabbed my phone and sent Clara a message: "Almost ready, et toi?"

She took a few minutes to reply; meanwhile, the bottle had been opened, the curtains shut, and the lights dimmed. I was almost ready to get naked but didn't want to rush into it.

"Already soaking in the tub, should we?" she replied.

I hit the video button and she picked up. "Shime!" I was starting to love her excitement whenever she said my mispronounced name. "Are you ready?"

"Almost, I just need to pour the wine and get comfortable," I said, opening camera view and showing my still-clothed body.

"I'm well ahead of you then," she said and took the phone further from her face, letting me see her exposed breasts. Then she moved the shot to a large glass of red wine filled almost to the brim.

"I guess you are. Let me get ready," I replied and started pouring the wine into my cup.

My glass wasn't as big as hers, and I had promised to get just one glass, but whenever I stopped pouring, I would hear booing from her end, so I kept pouring. In the end my glass was almost as full as hers was.

"It's still not enough, Shime," she said. "You'll have to refill it once you're done."

"Oh, come on, this is plenty, and it's barely past noon here," I replied.

"Yes, but you're drinking in French time, so it's okay," she replied.

"Tell that to my mom," I said.

"Sure, take me to her; I'll convince her," she said. All I could think about was how shocked my mom would be if she saw Clara bathing nude in a video call. She would cancel the trip for sure.

"Maybe another time. For now this will have to do," I said, swinging my glass of wine to the camera. "When I'm over there you'll have plenty of chances to see me drunk, I promise."

"I will hold you to that, Shime. Some plans are just better with wine," she replied and carefully took a sip of her almost overflowing glass.

"So, I remember you promising to match my energy. It's time to show I can trust your word," she said, panning the camera down to her naked tits.

"Wait, are you saying you want to get me naked? Shouldn't you buy me a drink first?" I said with a smirk.

"I want to, but you're being all American about it," she replied.

"I'm being all Mexican, there's a difference," I said.

"Show me then," she said.

The phone went down in my bed while I undressed. I had removed my blouse when I heard booing coming from the phone. I picked it up, and Clara looked upset.

"Why do you leave me looking at the ceiling while you do sexy things?" she said.

"I'm not doing anything sexy, just removing my clothes," I replied.

"With that magnifique body of yours, that's extremely sexy," she said.

The phone went back to my bed, this time with the camera facing me. "Do you see me alright?" I asked.

"It's a bit dark, but it will do," she said.

My body moved, turning away from the camera and I slid down my pants, making sure my tiny butt stuck out for her. My hips started doing this little dance, even though I've never considered myself to be sexy like that.

Whistling started coming from my phone, and that encouraged me to go on. Still facing away from the phone, I undid my bra from the back and let it drop to the floor. My arms covered my areolas as best they could and I turned around. She kept whistling, and then she shouted, "Yes, Shime, give it all!"

I laughed at her enthusiastic cheering. My hands dropped to my sides and then slid my panties off, revealing my clean-shaven pussy to her. I picked up my panties and threw them at her, or rather, at the phone, and she laughed like a maniac.

"Oh, Shime, you're so sexy and funny," she said when I picked up the phone.

"And that's without having a drink yet," I said.

I settled on the bed and took my first sip of wine. It was sweet and a little tangy.

"How is it?" Clara asked.

"Cheap and delicious, how about yours?" I shot back.

"It feels mature, with some hints of oak and blackberries; a little stronger than I like, but good enough for today," she said. Her accent made it difficult for me to understand if she was being serious. She seemed stoic.

Suddenly her rhythmic laughter broke the silence again. "Jajajaja! You should see your face, Shime! My dad is the sommelier of the family; I just get drunk on it." 

"I should've known. I'm this close to not believing you anything at all!" I said, all while chuckling.

"Oh, come on, don't be mean, Shime; you know I'm only teasing you!" She replied. That damn accent. I could kill someone if she were to ask me in that lovely accent and with her sweet voice.

"Ok. Ok, I forgive you, but only if you answer a few questions," I replied.

"Oh, merde, questions? About what?" She said she again looked away from the camera. Interesting.

"I want to know about past lovers," I replied. Seeing her grow uncomfortable made me feel uneasy about pushing the topic, but I really needed to know if I was just imagining things.

She kept looking away, and a silence settled between us. I could feel her awkwardness, so I decided to break the silence.

"I can start. Let me tell you about the time I hooked up at a rave. I have never told this story to anyone, ever," I said. Her ears seemed to perk up, and her gaze returned to the camera.

"It was a few months ago. I went to a rave with a bunch of classmates, not really my friends, just people I know. We drank and danced, and we had a great time. I know raves can go for days and days, but I had limited permission, and I was also worn out from school and work. Around midnight I decided to call it a night and started walking towards the exit." While I talked, I saw Clara smile and nod; she was genuinely invested in my story.

"My eyes were glued to my phone as I walked, trying to call an Uber. I wasn't really paying attention to where I walked, and I bumped into a rave fairy. She was this tiny girl who looked  maybe a couple of years older than me, dressed in a sheer bikini with star pasties on her nipples and a flimsy cape that doubled as her wings. Her eyes were framed by yellow and purple rhinestones that looked like exaggerated eyelashes.

"When we collided, her whole beer spilled over us. Her glitter exploded around us, as if I had bumped into an actual fairy"

"Oh, no, Shime, poor you!" Clara interrupted.

"Yeah, it was awful; we ended up drenched, and my phone took the worst hit. Yet, she never stopped dancing. Before I could react, she grabbed my hand and dragged me dancing to the back of the festival, where the public showers were. She took me to one of the showers and asked me if my phone was waterproof. I nodded; I was enthralled by this cute, almost mystical creature."

"Ohhhhh, I thought you would shower together," Clara said.

"I couldn't. I didn't have a change of clothes, but the beer fairy had no such restraints. She grabbed my phone and rinsed it, dancing under the shower to the beat of the electronic music. Suddenly the water stopped and the guards announced the closing of the showers for the night."

"So much for the sexy shower time," Clara said. She leaned forward, as if she could get closer to me and listen better to my story.

"My beer fairy started shivering; she was soaked, and the night was cool. I had nothing to cover her with, so I hugged her from behind. She started walking, and I had no other choice but to follow her footsteps. Soon we were standing in front of a tent, and she opened it."

"Please tell me she invited you in! It would be awful if that was the end of the story, Shime."

"Not at first. She unzipped the door, broke my embrace, and walked into her tent. Never breaking from her dance, she removed her bikini top and her cape. Then, practically topless, she turned to see me and asked in her sweet fairy voice, 'Are you coming in?' and she extended her glittery hand towards me."

"Oh, my god, Shime!!! I'm dying here; tell me what happened!!" Clara shouted as water splashed around her.

"I did. I have no idea why I did it; looking back, it was dangerous and stupid, but I couldn't help myself; maybe she enthralled me with her magic dancing. Before I knew it I was inside the tent with her, slowly peeling the star stickers on her breasts."

"Shime! Was she your first girl?" Clara asked.

"The first and only," I confessed. On the phone I saw her changing her expression to one of disappointment. "Not because it wasn't good; it was just… too shallow."

I had to take a deep breath to say the next part. So I stopped and looked Clara in the eye as I caught my breath.

"I loved eating her out; I loved her hands on me. I made her come more than once; she did it to me too. We scissored and we kissed like maniacs. We ended up naked and sweaty in the tent. To this day I miss the taste of another girl's pussy. But it was an empty experience. I don't even know her name; she will forever be my beer fairy, and I don't like that."

With a heavy heart I paused. Maybe I'd overshared but I was ok with that. My hand reached out for my half-empty glass of wine and took a sip. Clara followed my lead.

I hadn't planned to be so honest about this. I wanted to tell a sexy story so she would continue with one of her own. But somehow I felt vulnerable around her.

"Oh, Ximenita!" She said in a sweet tone. This was the first time she called me by my actual name, with the right pronunciation. "Don't be sad about it; you let yourself try it, and it wasn't for you, and that's fine. You're still you."

"Yeah, maybe that's right, but you know what the worst part was?" I asked.

"What?" Clara asked.

"I kept finding glitter in my panties for MONTHS after that!" I said, and we immediately laughed out loud; it felt empowering to let it all out.

"Oh, Shime! I love your humor. So, you're done with girls?" she asked.

"Oh, no, not at all; I'm done with one-night stands with overly stimulated girls at raves. It just wasn't my thing. How about you? Are you into girls?" I asked. Finally, I got to the question I've been wanting to ask since the beginning.

"I'm into you, ma jolie Shime," she answered with a twinkle in her eyes.

We both took a sip of wine and shared a deep breath. But then Clara looked away from the phone once more, I thought I had lost her but her eyes returned to me.

"Ok. I guess I'm not getting away that easily. I have been with girls in the past, a couple of them. One was my actual girlfriend, and we had a nasty breakup. That's why I don't talk about her. Her name was Emma, and we went to lycée together. We started dating during our last year there.

"We dated for 6 months until her parents found out. Turns out they are very much against lesbienne. So she broke up with me. The worst part is she did it in the middle of a school gathering; everyone and everyone's parents were there. The whole school labeled me as a lesbian, and I got bullied for it for months."

I was speechless hearing her talk. She opened herself to me in a way I never expected, and I couldn't say a thing back to comfort her.

"So, yeah, I'm into girls. Not like a lesbian. I'm more into people, you know? I fall in love with a cœur, not with a body part," she said. Her eyes looked watery, and I cursed at the distance that prevented me from hugging my friend.

"I know what you're saying. I'm sorry that happened to you; it sucks that she didn't fight for you. I would've disowned my parents if they disapproved of my girlfriend," I said.

She let out a small chuckle to my jab about disowning my parents.

"So, are you going to tell me about why you were murdering saucisse yesterday?" She asked. I noticed how she was a master at deflecting whenever she felt uncomfortable. But this time she deserved the break.

"Oh, that, yeah, that was my ex's saucisse; he failed to defend me, so he lost it," I said, trying to keep my face as straight as I could.

"JAJAJAJAJA! Shime! You're dangerous; I need to be careful around you and a knife then!" she said.

"Only if you break my heart," I replied, and we both shared a warm smile.

"So, really…" Clara said.

"Oh, yeah. Here in Mexico we have this thing called "salchipulpos," which would sort of translate to saucisspoulpe. It's the cheapest snack; it's just plain sausage with tentacles cut into it and deep fried. It's garbage food, but it sells alright and has a great profit margin. I thought it would be an interesting bit of trivia to share with you," I said.

"Saucisspoulpe sounds nasty without the explanation," she said and burst out laughing.

We settled down and, after a moment of silence my courage came through. "I have one last question I need to ask you. If it's too much, say the word and I'll forget about it. There's this thing you said yesterday that's been hunting me. You said it's not a good idea for us to be sisters, and I need to know what you meant by that," I asked, gathering all my courage.

"Shime, ma chérie, I… I don't know how to say this," she said. Her eyes again darted away from me. My eyes were fixed on her, while I gave her time to decide what to do.

"Shime, I don't want us to be sisters. Because sisters don't have rêve érotique with each other," she said. She was still looking away.

"Rêve érotique?" I asked.

She turned to see me once more, with her dark eyes piercing my soul, and said, "Erotic dreams," as the soft skin on her cheeks turned beet red. She downed the remainder of her wine and said, "I need to go, and I'm sure you need to go too. We'll talk later." And she ended the call.

I immediately regretted asking that question and sent her a text message: "Mon chérie, I'm sorry if I went too far. Just so you know, I also don't want us to be sisters for the same reason."

Her response cracked me up: "It's ma chérie Shime; mon chéri is for men."

"Is that all you have to say about that message, mon chérie?" I replied.

"I love that we're not sisters. Hopefully we can have some non-sisterly fun soon. For now I need to spend some time with my family," she replied.

My heart skipped a beat with her response, but I understood our moment was over for now. All I could do was react with a heart emoji, and I went about my day. The evening transpired almost the same as it had on days prior.

"Almost" is the key word. When Dad came home, he saw me working my ass off. Deep frying the snacks, he asked, "Hey Xi, how swamped are you?"

My eyes must've told a whole story, because before I could say a word, he rolled up his sleeves and started chopping sausages.

"Do you have orders to deliver?" He asked as he worked on the tentacles.

"A few, but they can wait," I replied.

"Go on then, I can fry the seafood," he said.

"What?" I asked, and then I understood his terrible joke. "UGH! Ok, you can fry the salchipulpos while I do deliveries."

When I returned from deliveries, my mom had replaced Dad on the deep fryer; apparently he was overcooking my merch, and Mom couldn't stand it.

A couple more hours went by. I paid my employees with spicy wings and french fries, and we settled for the night.

My mischievous self couldn't waste the opportunity to snap a few pics of my folks working on my business and send them to Clara with the caption, "My minions are hard at work; everything is going according to plan." 

I knew she would see the message when she woke up, but I still felt like sharing the moment with her.

Exhausted and ready for bed, I went to my room. I hadn't even planned on changing into my PJs, but the shower called me.

I had the most satisfying shower. The water was heavenly hot, and I could feel it coursing through my naked body. Thoughts of hands traveling over my body filled my head. At first they were soft, delicate hands, caressing me. Then they changed to rough, strong hands, having their way with my body.

A stream of fresh water woke me up. The hot water was running out, and my time in the shower was through.

Not a second after having crossed the threshold to my room, my towel dropped, and I practically jumped into bed, ready to doze off. Suddenly my phone vibrated. The notification was clear. A video from Marcos.