- 9 -
Dating Aria: Bra-mageddon Blossoms (aka The Bra Incident)
As Sophia's misplaced bra becomes the catalyst for Aria's revelation to her mother, Monica, the atmosphere is charged with romance and tension. Can the duo win over the ever-watchful matriarch?
Reader's note: Dive into this tale knowing it's pure fiction crafted for a mature audience. Expect a sassy narrative centered around consensual age-gap lesbian relationships, with all characters being eighteen and over. If this isn't your cup of tea, no hard feelings! For those diving in, thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts with a rating.
As the city's frenzied traffic buzzed around me, Giselle's voice on the line recounting our double date antics with Aria and Mariana was the only thing making the commute bearable. Once upon a time, my best friend and I were the young and restless chasing mature admirers. Now, Giselle and I found ourselves on the flip side, entranced by the youthful allure of our new companions.
With my blouse casually unbuttoned, jeans hugging my curves, and hair tousled from last night's escapades, I looked every bit the morning-after poster child. Dodging surprised clients and busy stylists, I made my entrance to my salon and darted straight into my office. The comforting aroma of lavender greeted me as I settled into my chair, the door's thud announcing, 'Boss lady's back.'
Before I could switch to boss mode and bask in a rare moment of peace, Aria's cheeky DM slid into view, shattering the tranquility. Tranquility is but a tease in my world, especially with Aria in it.
I could easily picture her in that boring classroom, her neon-tipped fingers firing off texts. Earning death stares from her teacher.
"Ugh, this class feels endless," her message popped up. "Wish I had a fast-forward button. Excited for our hang later, babe. π"
Aria? A rule-bending daredevil. Consequences? Barely a blip on her radar. But it's not her teachers she should be wary of. The real storm brewing? Aria's mom, just over the horizon.
Drowning in a digital tsunami of unread emails, hearing Aria's ringtone was totally unexpected. Calls during school hours? Major red flag. But before I could even drop a "hey", she blurted, "Mom's got your La Perla hostage!"
I paused, processing. "Wait, she's got my what now?"
Aria, her voice a cocktail of amusement and panic, said, "Your bra, Soph. Seems like it wanted a sleepover at my place."
I chuckled, "Guess it's more adventurous than I thought!" trying to lighten the mood.
But the gravity of the situation was undeniable. It slapped harder than that unexpected Tinder super-like she threw my way. That 'for-her-eyes-only' La Perla bra I wore when I snuck into her room? It's now the juiciest gossip -- at least in Monica's world. It's like accidentally sharing that risquΓ© photo on your socials for all to see. Monica, with her laser-sharp mom-dar, probably felt like she'd just won the 'Catch Aria in the Act' lottery.
In reality, it wasn't just about a forgotten piece of lingerie; it was our secret affair, now under the spotlight. How would this little reveal shake things up? Would Aria be cornered into defining 'us' for her mom?
With a mix of amusement and disbelief, Aria told me, "So, she legit took a pic and sent it to me with, 'Exhibit A: Care to explain?' Can you even?"
I couldn't help but laugh. "CSI Miami has got nothing on her."
Ever get that sinking feeling, like when you're caught binge-watching that guilty pleasure show? That was me in this moment. I could almost hear Monica's wild theories of how that bra got there, from secret high school rituals to risquΓ© rendezvous that'd make the front page of a gossip blog.
Aria, always thinking three steps ahead, jumped into damage control mode. She explained away the bra to her mom, hinting it belonged to her new 'friend'. But, being the crafty soul she is, she left out the spicy details--like our age gap--that would've had Monica spitting out her morning latte.
Had Monica ever tuned into Aria's vibes? With all those LGBTQ+ posters and edgy zines, it seemed clear. But Aria? She's a walking curveball. Into girls? Predictable. Cougars? That's the season finale no one saw coming.
"So, Mom's blowing up my DMs... She wants a face-to-face. Like, yesterday."
Now, Monica wasn't just peeking into Aria's latest chapter. She was gearing up to meet the busty siren who'd left a trail of whispers in her wake. The diva at the center of bra-gate. This felt like my ultimate charisma test; I've navigated trickier situations, but something told me Monica might not be rolling out the welcome mat for a firey divorcee like me.
Before hanging up, Aria dished on Monica's over-the-top mom moves, and trust me, it did zero favors for my nerves. Not too long ago, Aria chilled with a guy friend--just friends, no drama or benefits. But Monica? She channeled her inner detective, interrogating them like they were on a true-crime podcast, always on the lookout for potential heartbreakers.
In need of a breather, I wandered outside and was drawn to "Blossoms & Bliss" conveniently nestled right next to my salon. Talk about the universe sending me a flirty wink, right? This chic flower shop showcased the most radiant white lilies I'd ever seen on their window display. And lilies? They were my ace in the hole.
You see, a little birdie (okay, my Pilates instructor, Sara, who once shared a yoga studio with Monica) told me Monica's ex-hubby used to shower her with white lilies all the time. Thus, Operation 'Win-With-Lilies' was set in motion.
Jotting out the delivery details, doubt crept in. Was a bouquet enough to crack the Monica code? In the game of love, you either play bold or stay single, no?
Seizing the moment for that extra sprinkle of personal flair, I winked at the charming florist and asked for a note card. With pen poised, I whipped up a message, blending my mad crush on Aria with a dash of anticipation for meeting the legendary M.
"Hey Monica! Super sorry about the bra-mageddon -- won't be a repeat, promise! Your fab daughter? She's got someone who's completely smitten (yep, that's me!). Eager to finally meet! Cheers, Sophia -- Aria's ultimate heart-throb."
I read and reread that note, letting each word marinate, before sliding it over to the handsome florist. Deep down, I sensed that beneath Monica's mama bear vibes, there was a heart open to my brand of authenticity. With a final glance, a confident exhale, I strutted out, poised to write the next chapter of our tale.
Back in the bustling hub of my office, my mind went on a 'What Ifs' Netflix marathon. Would Monica feel the flower love? Would Aria face the dreaded 'you're grounded'? Or, in a dramatic twist, would Monica go full helicopter mom, transforming Aria into a 21st-century Rapunzel--sans romance and, heaven forbid, Wi-Fi! Stay tuned for the next episode of 'Sophia's Overthinking'!
Each passing second felt like an eternity as I paced my office, my phone within arm's reach, waiting for that all-important notification. I mean, how long does it take to snap a pic and give me feedback on a bouquet?
In my mind's next binge-worthy episode, Aria's grand home entrance stole the show. Picture this: the front door bursting open in slow-mo, her vibrant rainbow Converse taking center stage, and that iconic Jansport backpack sliding off with the ease of a practiced influencer. And then, the pièce de résistance: the bouquet. Those lilies, standing tall and proud, practically begging for an Instagram story spotlight. Nestled among them, my handwritten note, a shoutout saying, "Hey, Monica, I'm all in for Aria." But would it be a hit or a meme-worthy miss?