Shrugging, I closed the door and returned to my room, picked up my Quill and got back to work. Teasing the buzzing silicone feather along my skin, over erogenous zones … up the insides of my thighs until I was so close to?—
Bang bang! Bang, bang bang!
“De dragul dracului!” I cursed, tossing the Quill down on the bed and wrenching on my robe once more.
There was a family with two tween boys living in one of the apartments one floor down. Perhaps they’d decided a little knocking and running would be hilarious.
I crept towards the door, straining to hear any hint of sound on the other side. Was that the scuff of a shoe? On tiptoes, I made it the final few steps, unlocked the dead bolt as silently as I could and flung the door open.
“Gotcha!”
Silence and emptiness met me. A chill started low down my back, between my hips, and trembled its way up until it tightened my shoulder blades, robbing me of breath.
I closed the door. Checked the dead bolt, twice. Wiped my clammy palms on my robe and returned to my room. With my bedroom door closed, and locked, I shoved the Quill aside, tucked my legs up and wrapped my arms around them.
My phone stared accusingly at me from the tripod. I unclipped it with shaking hands and deleted what I’d filmed so far. The Quill Road Test would have to wait for another day. I wasn’t in the mood for orgasms now.
BUZZZZ!
“Aaargh!”
I dropped my phone onto the comforter. It lay, face up and open on my Tickle notifications screen, completely benign.
“For fuck’s sake, Irina!” I snatched the thing up. A user called M_Jay had sent me a DM. That had been the buzzing sound. “A pair of pre-pubescent pranksters is not a reason to lose your shit over every little thing.
I clicked into the DM.
M_Jay: I’ve been researching all possible avenues for your ongoing stay, and I’ve come to the conclusion that marriage is the best (only) option for your situation.
A grin spread across my face, even as another DM pinged into my inbox.
M_Jay: It’s Henry, by the way.
Laughter snorted out of me, the fear of a moment ago melting from my bones, and my thumbs flew over the screen.
Ru_Snack_XXXplores: Well, helloo there Henry M Jay. Is it normal for the owner of a multi-billion-dollar app to slide into a creator’s DMs? And if it is, where’s the blurry selfie of your turgid member? You have to play by the rules, and an unsolicited dick pic as a greeting is rule number one …
Ru_Snack_XXXplores: What does the ‘M’ stand for? Millionaire? Marriage?
Ru_Snack_XXXplores: Menstrual Cycles …?
I bit back more giggling, watching the dots appear on his side of the screen.
M_Jay: It stands for Mocking, which ironically, feels like what you’re doing to me right now.
M_Jay: And I’m sorry to disappoint on the dick pic front … but allow me to send you a consolation prize.
A picture popped up on the screen, and I guffawed.
M_Jay: A pussy pic is the next best thing, don’t you agree?
The picture was of his orange fuzzball Abernathy, lolling on his back on Henry’s bed, tail tucked between his little fluffy legs.
Ru_Snack_XXXplores: Is that my black G-string he’s resting his head on?
M_Jay: I believe it is now HIS black G-string.
Ru_Snack_XXXplores: It’s lucky I have a whole drawer full of them then, isn’t it?
