Universal Remote Raunchiness

Tori’s in her bedroom, flat on her back, working a new remote-controlled toy between her legs. She keeps the clicker handy and nudges the buzz up a notch whenever she wants a stronger kick. Down the hall Nadia’s hunched over her laptop, fingers flying. She’s cobbled together a little program that sniffs out every remote gadget in the place, then lets her boss them around from one screen. Fridge hums, lights flicker, stereo skips tracks. All good. Then a mystery signal pops up. Nadia shrugs, hits the button. Nothing obvious happens, so she mashes it again—harder, longer. Same thing on the third try. Fourth time she holds it down for a solid five-count. Over in Tori’s room the toy suddenly flips from steady thrum to jackhammer. Tori’s hips jerk, the remote slips from her hand, and the toy just keeps climbing. She can’t shut it off and the jolts keep coming until a sharp, loud moan tears out of her. Nadia hears it and bolts into the bedroom, laptop still open. One glance at the toy buzzing between Tori’s thighs and she gets it. "Oh crap—sorry!" They both crack up. Tori’s still trembling, but the laugh fades quick because they’re both flushed and breathing fast. Nadia sets the laptop aside. Tori scoots over. Clothes come off in a hurry, and the next thing either of them knows they’re tangled together, hands and mouths everywhere, chasing the buzz that started the whole mess.