Smokey Saga #61:
"
Special Deliveries
"
*****
This story's adapted from an idea suggested by a Reader and friend called Henry. It's an original concept I've never seen done before
...
then again, that's also the case with lots of plots I shape about lesbians. It's always interesting and novel when women take on the kinds of decisions and issues normally faced by men. Which is something that (eventually) happens here. This is now the longest story I have written and posted. But there are three good sex scenes for you to enjoy throughout.
Oh, by the way
...
what with the unabated bomb proliferation running amok—and a feeling I'm getting that they're no longer being swept—score voting's back off. So at this point I'll say sorry about that, but hasten to add that just like last time, if you don't like the voting turned off, you know whom to thank. Regardless, (real) Readers, your feedback is still welcomed, valued and appreciated.
*****
Business As Unusual (And A Lashback)
Wednesday, February 17th, 2016, 10:43 a.m.
"And so, given that third quarter sales have been down, this will obviously require a closer look at the objective goal as we approach quarter four. Now, in times we've hit setbacks like this before, we've found that we've drifted a bit from our original success formula..."
Riley Hutchins sat with her colleagues in the meeting, scribbling on her notepad as the presentation went on. She'd chosen a seat with vacant chairs on either side, as she'd done more and more often lately. She hoped this didn't make her appear aloof or standoffish to her co-workers, because this wasn't her intention at all; she tried to conduct herself sociably and pleasantly otherwise. She did this because these meetings never really taught her anything she didn't already know, and so no one would see that instead of taking notes, she was making a handwritten diary entry with decorative little squiggles and doodles. She was in a decent mood to perform work duties adequately, but not really to sit here and listen to this redundant chatter.
"...And that it's helped to take things back to basics to get on track again. I realize a third quarter decline is rare, and that it's not the ideal time to revert to fundamentals, but sometimes we have to take a step back before we can go forward again."
Riley was 28, very well-to-do, a lone dweller, single, and an executive with Seven Seas Systems in downtown Juniper, Minnesota. She was not the youngest person in the office, but pretty young—in comparison with her peers—to have achieved the position she had thus far. She'd zipped through college with ease, earning a degree in business by 25. She was one smart cookie, and allowed nobody to tell her different. Post-graduation, her degree and sharp, savvy mind paved her the way here to Seven Seas, and a short series of interviews granted her access into the prestigious corporation. The company was soon to learn of her finesse. She kicked in constant ideas and input to the bigwigs upstairs to further things along, although she knew the corporate world could be cutthroat, even to its own within. Sometimes she was duly credited for her efforts, sometimes not. But, she'd done well enough so far to win a position at her current level. She was good at her job, and she
enjoyed
being good at her job. What she
didn't
enjoy were the meetings.
Another big reason she disliked the meetings was this. Alone at her desk, she wasn't (also redundantly) reminded that she was virtually the only unattached person in this office. Furthermore, while this didn't even occur to her co-workers, resting their ring-adorned hands on the table gave her the "privilege" of being "happy" for them. In reality, sadly, she was not. She was on her own, without a partner to share her life and the world...and she was frankly getting sick of it.
While she wouldn't yet say she was desperate—be it only a little, or enough to do something considered, well, crazy—she felt sad, envious and slightly bitter. It wasn't fair, she thought. She had a few things stacked against her she couldn't change or control. She was gay, she wasn't exactly a supermodel, and she was troubled due to some rough childhood trauma, the sting of which never quite went away. She wasn't mentally anguished enough that she couldn't do her job, socialize or trust anyone, but some days it got pretty tough to roll out of bed, and work her facial muscles into something resembling a smile. She was starting to seriously crave just a nice young lady in her life. It didn't seem like asking for the world. And, so she wasn't exactly a beauty goddess. She certainly wasn't repulsive, either. When she looked in the mirror, she saw no glaring "flaws." Was there something she was doing wrong?
She'd met a small handful of girls in high school and college who seemed nice enough, but showed no interest. And while she couldn't force a girl to like her if she didn't, this made the situation all the more frustrating. It was difficult enough already just to meet another lesbian (or bisexual), and the ones she'd been fortunate enough to meet hadn't given her a fair chance. She had her good points, like anyone else; she considered herself a decent catch. If only being met with the right person and given the opportunity, she really felt she could get something serious off the ground.
She pretended to swipe an itch across her face so her officemates would neither see her yawn. She was only a bit tired getting out of bed this morning. But nowadays, the bimonthly—and alas mandatory—meetings drained much of the energy she had left, and today's was no exception. As she half-attentively looked back up at the presenter, the thought dawned that this colleague, Denise, reminded her of Christine, one of her mothers. At such moments, just to keep herself alive and going, she tended to let her mind wander, normally through a string of random thoughts, which inevitably led to a past memory, usually about her and her Moms.
When Riley was old enough to understand, they explained to her that she was born through a process called artificial insemination. And that her essential biological father was a donor they had granted the privilege to be part of Riley's life. So while she lived with her two Moms, she got to see and visit her Dad justly often as well. Sometimes all the four of them went to do something together. This was the way Riley liked it best. She considered herself especially lucky to have
three
loving parents, one more than most. Still, her family dynamic did not always play in her favor, as in the case of parents' night at school. If her mothers appeared without her donor Dad, certain classmates felt the need to tease or question her about it. Riley didn't see what the big deal was. But then, she had accepted the nature of the world with which she'd been presented, just like any innocent kid. So often enough, when her mind scampered off, a random childhood memory of her family was a good one.
Some
times, it was
very
bad.
Once while little Riley sat in front of the TV, her Moms Christine and Amber were talking in the kitchen. Well, "talking" was not the most accurate way to describe what they were doing. "Bickering" would be better, but still wouldn't quite cover it. "
Scream
ing" would about do the trick. Altercations between her Moms didn't happen extremely often anyway, and
never
like this. The conversation heated and escalated to the point that Riley's attention was shifted. The television program continued at the same volume, but Riley stopped listening. This seemed to be a new level. She knew her Moms quarreled sometimes, but was less than familiar with the likes of this. Their voices loudened and intensified from the kitchen. And one of them sounded sort of...
weird
.
Riley was becoming scared. She didn't like this.
"Amber, I told you I
wasn't
gonna put up with you drinking like this anymore!" Christine yelled. "Have you forgotten you have a daughter?? Who looks up to you, and takes after you? Who wants to
be
like you?"
Riley gulped. So
that
was why Amber's voice sounded strange. Was this fight about her? She didn't wish to cause any tension. But also, her mother Amber had been drinking...excessively?...She knew Amber had some wine, whiskey or rum once in a while, but she never thought it anything unmanageable. Christine evidently begged to differ. And Amber did sound pretty soused, as she roared back.
"
HEY!
" Amber half-shouted and half-slurred, shaking a bottle with her fist. "I told
you
to shut up, bitch! You don't tell me how the hell to live
my
life!
Riley
's your goddamn daughter, not
