Take Me to Church

[BlackAkuma]

Lucy was much slower to get up. In part because her body was still recovering from all it had gone through - the wrestling, the squeezing, the smothering. She wasn’t in great pain or anything, but she had a few aches and pains in places she wasn’t accustomed to, and a bit of a sore throat from the screaming. Nothing she wouldn’t recover from in a few days, though. Plus…

”This is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever been on. Ever.” Which wasn’t saying much, her bed’s were notoriously crap, but this one felt close to five-star hotel room quality. She breathed deep and stretched out, arching her back and enjoying the softness as she sunk between the sheets.

Lucy rolled over to her chest and stretched like a cat, rolling her shoulders and raising her hips, before she let it all go and flopped flat with her arms and legs stretched. Normally, she might worry about leaving too much of her smell on Neith’s bed, but that ship had already sailed. ”Would you believe zero? I mean, I watch some porn from time to time, sure, but nothing quite like that. Only ever dipped my toes into kinky stuff.”

She perked up at Neith’s final words, processing the implicit proposition, and she propped up on her elbows to gaze up at the woman. It was hard to be 100% sure with the woman - teasing seemed to be baked into her conversations by default. But no, she looked genuine. ”I…you really think I did that good?” Ugh, she was blushing, wasn’t she? Too late to hide it, but she looked down to hide it, anyway, along with her dopey smile. ”That would be cool, yeah.”

Lucy cleared her throat, found some more base in her voice, and locked eyes with Neith. ”Yeah, I’d like that.”

[HawtWheels]

Safiya watched the stretching display with a look of mild amusement, her blue eyes tracing the arch of Lucy’s back and the way her body sank into the mattress. It was indeed a good bed - Egyptian cotton, high thread count, imported mattress. Safiya didn’t believe in suffering, at least not for herself. That was for the people without her drive or marketing skills, or simply the people who hired her who longed to suffer between a goddess' legs. Lucy, presumably, among them.

"Of course it is," Safiya replied, her tone practically purring like a cat, already thinking about lying in that bed later... and perhaps catching up on more Bridgerton. "I don’t sleep on anything less than a cloud. If I’m going to spend half my life in bed, sleeping or... working, I intend to treat this body with the utmost luxury."

She walked over to the nightstand, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a long, deliberate sip, letting Lucy stew in that blush for a moment. The admission of having zero experience actually surprised her. Usually, girls tried too hard to imitate what they saw online, resulting in overacting and awkward angles. Lucy had just... adapted. responded. Made her look good. All points in her favor.

"Then you have a natural gift for suffering beautifully," Safiya mused, lowering the bottle. She looked down at the woman propped up on her elbows, offering a smirk that was equal parts predatory and pleased. "And yes, you did that good. I think you realize I don't hand out compliments to make people feel better about themselves. Good help is good money, too."

She leaned back against the dresser, crossing her ankles, looking every bit the relaxed goddess, lingering above her smitten subject. "Consider yourself hired for the next batch. And whatever my... arrangement with your boys, you will be paid for good work."

[BlackAkuma]

Neith wasn’t kidding when she called this thing a cloud, either - a metaphor, but not much of one. Lucy felt like she could melt into it, like the folds could just wrap her up and pulled her into them. Like everything with this woman, they were high quality, high class, the signs of someone who simply did not accept anything less than the finest things in life.

Lucy very much wanted to not get up and just stay in this bed for as long as Neith would let her. But…

She had pushed her luck enough tonight. Getting to roll around with Neith like this was already more than most could’ve hoped for. She wasn’t about to assume that sort of intimacy, as much as she might’ve like it.

Lucy breathed deep, committing the smell of the moment to her memory, and rolled out of bed, keeping her head low as she did to hide her goofy little smile. It wasn’t every day that she got compliments like this, especially from a living sex goddess.

”Getting paid is good. I like getting paid. And I’m definitely down for more of this, whenever you like.” She stood up and started looking about - clothes, clothes, where’d she put her clothes? Ah, over there.

Lucy padded her way across the room, but stopped halfway, as a quick burst of courage hit her. Rubbing her shoulder, she turned halfway about to face Neith, not wanting to seem too committed to the words about to come out of her mouth. ”And maybe we could meet somewhere else and do something else, sometime? Like dinner. If you want.” She shrugged. ”You’re pretty much the only person I know in this whole country besides the guys, so…”

[HawtWheels]

Safiya watched the younger woman pad across the room, wearing the faintest of smiles as she observed the search for clothing. It was always a bit unceremonious, the post-session scramble. Usually, she enjoyed watching them leave as much as she enjoyed watching them squirm since she had her limits of patience and wanted work entirely separated from her social life, but Lucy’s sudden pivot - the awkward, halfway-turned pause - caught her attention. The proposition completely engaged her with the woman.

Dinner. Out.

Safiya let out a soft, dismissive breath, pushing herself off the dresser. The audacity was almost charming, but she couldn't blame the woman for trying.

"Go out?" Safiya repeated the words as if they were a foreign concept, arching a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "The idea of putting on heels, going out into this weather, and dealing with people?" She shook her head, walking past Lucy to retrieve her phone and giving the woman a long, hard look at her figure on the way by. She unlocked it with a swipe of her thumb, already opening her preferred delivery app. She lived by a simple rule: if it didn't make her money or bring her pleasure with minimal effort, she wasn't interested.

"Absolutely not. I don't wait for tables," she stated matter-of-factly, tapping on a restaurant listing. "And I don't cook. I order in almost every single night unless I have no other choice, and I don't like nights where I have no other choice."

She glanced up at Lucy, her blue eyes gleaming with a challenge. "So, if you want dinner, you’re eating it here, in the air conditioning, and we might talk business. But..." She reached out, patting Lucy lightly on the cheek with a soft but strong hand. "...consider that an invitation."