Then the little dot that showed she was online vanished, and Greta wasn’t sure if it was panic or actual need that made Lee run away suddenly.Shewas the one that brought up a third meetup, though.
Maybe she just means Monday? Two back-to-back nights?
Greta wasn’t sure. She’d take it, though, whether it was Monday or later, even if it meant that the third visit was the end. She let her mind fill with the memory of the sight of Lee when she was approaching orgasm. Seeing her let down her walls, knowing that Greta’s had been the touch to make that happen, felt like a victory to savor.
Ultimately, Greta wanted to make Lee feel as good as Lee had made her feel. She thought about all the ways she could do that while her own fingers stroked faster. The photo of the vibe thrusting into Lee’s welcoming pussy looped over and over on the screen, and Greta imagined that it was her hand fucking Lee. That Lee was open and eager for her. That Lee had handed over the control for a moment.
When Greta reached orgasm, she was still staring at the video. She sighed contently. While masturbating was not quite as satisfying as being with someone, this time was better than usual. There was just something hot about knowing that in DC Lee was doing the same thing, about knowing she was just as excited by their encounter.
Greta stretched and closed the app after sending one last text.
Marie:Thank you. See you at 1. Message when you get here.
Maybe after this weekend they could try video sex or phone sex. The app had a way to do that without sharing real phone numbers. She hadn’t used it, but she’d break the rules for Lee. Try new things.
The next day, Greta woke far too early and cleaned pretty much everything in her apartment. Fresh linens were the first thing. Her old soft sheets didn’t seem likecompanysheets.
Her phone notifications buzzed.
Lee:Still on?
Marie:Yes.
Lee:On schedule here. Do you live in the city? Or in Jersey?
Marie:City. Do you live in the District or outside the Beltway?
Lee:Inside. Are we playing Q&A?
Marie:Can we?
Lee:NY or Chicago pizza?
Marie:NY obviously. You? And pie or cake?
Lee:All pizza is good. Dessert is different. Tart. Then cream pies, chocolate, banana, lemon. I have a whole pie rating system. Cake last.
Marie:Pie is serious stuff, huh? Key lime here. Then banoffee, then chocolate cream, then mixed berry.
Lee:Are you trying to trick me into confessions?
Marie:I’m intrigued. What if we were friends?
Lee:Would friends still have sex?
Marie:YES.
As she waited for a reply, Greta opened her closet and put everything connected to her job inside it. There were ARCs, advanced review copies, and a manuscript from Ms. Carpenter, the author Greta was meeting Monday—the one she’d been reading when Lee messaged.
She glanced at the pages now, feeling awkward. The author wrote sex bluntly, and though it wasn’t thepointof the book, only a nitwit would think that sex didn’t advance the plot. Learning to trust someone required emotional vulnerability for most people, so a romance that showed that vulnerability was notfailing. Closed-door sex was fine, too, and Greta almost wished she could ask Ms. Carpenter to do that instead—not because the sex scenes were bad but because Greta was so keyed up already that she couldn’t edit this weekend when the sex on the page was that raw.
Lee:I will consider this.
Marie:I’m a good friend.
Lee:…
Marie:What?
