An Easy Prospect

Ariel's pacing the living room, nipples tight under her robe, sure the next knock belongs to the guy she's been sexting. When the door opens she doesn't even check. She grabs the stranger by the collar, drags her across the threshold, and kicks it shut with a bare heel. Penny Barber, blouse damp from walking in the heat, barely gets a "Wait—" out before Ariel's tongue is in her mouth and the strap of her purse slips off her shoulder. She smells like coconut sunscreen. Ariel smells like want. They make it as far as the couch before Ariel shoves the skirt up Penny's hips and climbs on. Zippers part, bras go flying, lips are bruised. Penny laughs once—short, throaty—and spreads her thighs on the fabric like she planned this all along. Later Ariel pops open the sales kit, expecting lube, dildos, cuffs. The lid lifts. Stacked ceramic squares glint under the overhead light. Her phone buzzes. "Can't make it," reads the real hook-up's message. Dead air follows, then an elbow nudge from the surprised woman beside her. "Penny," she supplies. "I sell tile." Ariel's cheeks burn. "Oh, fuck." Penny just shrugs and tugs Ariel's fingers back between her own legs. "You made my miserable route the best one of the day," she says. "Door's locked. We still have time, don’t we?"