Leave Us Alone

Lena wordlessly moved her leg a little further apart, trying to get the laptop to rest against the armrest. She did not stop playing.

"You know how it is." Blake had the shot framed of her head, Lena's cock and her hands holding the controller. "Women and their games, right?"

Blake extended her lips and kissed Lena's cock. On the second, longer kiss, there was a twitch, as the long bit of flesh began to stir to life, extending and swelling gradually until it was at its full height, the head now well out of frame.

She extended her tongue, as if to try to reach out of frame with it. Unable to reach it without showing Lena's face to the camera, she planted a few more wet kisses on the base before coaxing Lena's balls in closer for kisses, each punctuated with a pleased moan from Blake.

"Mmm... so hot..." Blake moaned with each exaggerated smack of her lips.

Lena was very happy that her face wasn't in frame. She was blushing brightly, not her normal reaction to someone teasing her cock. Blake said she wasn't doing the recording live, so there was no chance that a slip of the camera would post her image to the Internet as she got fellatio.

Blake opened her mouth wide and dragged her lips against the round surface of Lena's left ball, like a toothless donkey trying to eat an apple. "Oooh... it's just too big for me. Anyone out there want to come out here and help me with this? There's plenty to share..." She wiggled her fingers to wave good-bye and turned off the video recording.

Lena didn't pause the game during the recording, but she definitely did to review the video with Blake. She wasn't that interested in naughty selfies, but she watched it very carefully to make certain that no part of her face, or anything else that would easily betray her identity, was visible. Someone intimately familiar with her nude form might be able to pick her out of a lineup of dicks.

"Isn't this hot?" Blake seemed much more taken by the video than Lena, though both were still visibly aroused.

"It is..." Lena admitted. "I actually think it's hotter to imagine that's someone else's cock, rather than mine."

"Why? You're hot as hell."

Lena made a single chuckle, almost a scoff. "I just... don't normally do this sort of thing, posting it to the Internet. I keep my nudity between me and my... forty roommates."

"You should totally do it." Blake said. "Asian babe with a twelve-inch thing... you'd be famous."

"That's exactly why I DON'T want to do it." Lena said. "I'd do it if that was how I earned my keep around here, but nobody's really ever called me out on not contributing to the rent. Everyone seems to be happy enough when I volunteer to wash the dishes."

A dishwasher was the one creature comfort that neither house possessed that Blake missed. Nevertheless, she hadn't washed a single dish she hadn't herself used. As it was, dishes graciously never lingered for days in the sink, the way they might in college dorms.

"Besides... I'm not a babe. Babes have big boobs." Lena looked down. She always knew that her lower body would nevertheless be accepted in the world of porn. She had avoided using it in such a way until now. As Blake released the video of the fellatio to the Internet, Lena still felt some anxiety brewing inside her, even if nobody but Blake knew that it was her.

Lena did what she always did to relax. She resumed her game and continued playing right where she left off, picking up a tricky jump she had interrupted without missing it. The house was again filled with 16-bit music.

"Does The Rock have a movie out?" She asked.

"The Rock's ALWAYS got a movie out somewhere." Blake didn't look up from the laptop. "We can just pretend we're in the Australian outback and we just got Walking Tall."

For a few minutes, there was no talking. Lena played her game, and Blake watched as the hits and comments trickled in from their new video. Most comments were unremittingly horny, as suited a porn website. Some said that the blonde chick was pretty, which was always nice to hear. Some wanted to see the face of the super hung futa she was kissing, or wanted to see if the blonde had a cock. (They must be new. Everyone featured on this particular channel was a futa. She'd have to prove it next time.)

The most common request from the comments, typical of anything released onto the internet, was for the scene to continue.

Blake wanted that very much, too. Hopefully, this video would get a follow-up.

And yet... even as the Internet continued to dispense positive affirmation, her attention moved to the television, and to the frantic, colorful display of elite gaming prowess. It was likely the result of enormous repetition, but what was skill if not practice implemented?

Blake sat there for a few minutes more, until the action on the screen got to be a disorienting vortex of colored squares. She stretched her arms over her head and got up from the couch.

"I might take a nap." She made motions towards the stairs.

"If you tie yourself to that bed, I'm not rescuing you this time."

Blake's hand had just fallen on the newel post at the bottom of the stairs. She stopped, sighed dramatically, and returned to the couch. "Fine. It's cooler down here anyway."

---

A little past noon, Lena had reached the ending staff scroll of her game, as she had many times before. She finally released the controller and sighed, interlocking her fingers and stretching them above her.

"Congratulations." Blake said. "You won. You saved the world... or whatever that game's about."

Lena nodded, not saying anything. Blake gently brought herself into Lena's lap, wrapping her arms around her shoulder and kissing her on the cheek. Lena writhed a bit. Blake's body was very warm, and slightly damp with sweat.

But so was Lena, of course. She put her arm around Blake's torso and pulled her in. She may have been warm, but she was also soft and cute.

"Want a celebratory fuck?" Blake asked.

"Nah. I'm a bit tired after that." Lena said. "Besides, that wasn't a challenge. If I ever beat Super Star Wars, THEN I might feel like fucking."

The video game credits continued at an even pace.

"TV's yours, if you want it." Lena offered. "If you want to watch the news or something."

"Oh, yuck." Blake shook her head. "Who wants to do that? Nothing but bad news we can't do anything about. There's not even a reason to check out the weather. It's the same almost every day."

"You can watch Netflix, then. I'm sure someone in here's paying for it."

Messing with three different remote controls across their four tangled arms eventually summoned the front browsing page of Netflix. Blake explored the selection. She wondered who in this house was paying for the Internet, much less Netflix. Someone here had to do the parts of "adulting" that weren't the fun, sexy parts.

"Remember when Netflix was for movies... and not television that didn't get picked up anywhere?" Blake rued.

"Not really. I almost never went to the movies." Lena said. "I didn't watch much TV, but we had it growing up." Lena admitted. "All the stuff I WOULD still watch is on cable. Maybe those shows are on a streaming app now."

Blake scrolled through Netflix's suggested shows. A very familiar show stood out from the others, like the rules card accidentally shuffled into a deck of playing cards.

"Have you ever watched Breaking Bad?" Blake asked.

"No, but I know how it ends through memes and cultural osmosis."

"It's still worth watching, if you ever get around to it. Unlike Game of Thrones."

"I already spend too much time looking at a TV screen anyway. Probably why I need glasses."

"You ever see one of those shows where two people get trapped in an elevator or walk-in freezer or whatever? It's a writing excuse to have two characters hang out in a single location and work out some character stuff? Characters with traits that clash or characters that hadn't gotten much time together are forced to gel. Star Trek would do it sometimes, but the show would just have all the action take place on the permanent sets that make up the ship. No alien planets, no holodeck stuff, nothing like that."

"I'm familiar with the idea. My father liked Star Trek. They made fun of that trope in that one Family Guy where it's just Stewie and Brian locked in the bank vault."

"I never watched Family Guy."

"Well, don't start watching it NOW. That might have been the last legitimately great episode. Even though they probably did it to save money rather than to poke fun at television clichés."

"It's funny you say that." Blake said. "Breaking Bad has an episode right in the middle called The Fly, where Walter and Jesse try to kill a house fly that could contaminate their lab. Fans consider it the worst episode, though critics defend it as a master stroke of character development."

Lena wasn't positive she knew who Walter and Jesse were, though she could make a guess based on context clues. "Based on your tone, I feel like you don't agree with that assessment."

"I definitely don't. Breaking Bad is deeply serialized. It's not like Star Trek, where you can sometimes miss an episode and it might not affect the overall plot of the season. With Breaking Bad, you can't really miss any episode and know what's going on. That's why I didn't watch it when it was new. I waited for it to be finished.

"But The Fly... the overarching plot doesn't move forward at all. It CAN'T, because the two main characters are sequestered. They're removed from the environment where they can interact with the other characters to have a side story SPECIFICALLY because they had to do an episode on the cheap. Nothing that happens in that episode matters to any of the following episodes at all.

"There is a big secret that Walter's keeping from Jesse, and he almost tells him in this episode, but then... he just doesn't. Maybe they couldn't have the revelation send shock waves through the other episodes, but that'd be the only sort of thing you COULD do in that episode to make the episode necessary, to change the dynamic between the only two characters that are present with something that's already established. As it is, it's the ONLY episode of Breaking Bad that you could completely skip and miss NOTHING."

Lena shrugged. "I guess it's better that the episode didn't matter, rather than it ruining the show."

"Well, that's what's even weirder. The episode that precedes The Fly..." Blake brought up the list of episodes to get the episode title. "Kafkaesque. In that episode, Jesse is in his rehab support group and talks about stubbornly making better and better boxes in wood shop to spite the teacher's dismissive attitude towards him. But the episode that FOLLOWS The Fly starts with a flashback, where Jesse visits the Georgia O'Keefe museum in Santa Fe. And Jesse doesn't understand why O'Keefe would choose to paint the same door over and over again. If The Fly wasn't between them, the contrast between these two episodes would be obvious."

"TV is written by lots of different people on the same show."

"Yeah, but the showrunner should have noticed the incongruity."

There was a long pause, where Lena's eyes moved about, as if looking around the room for the point of Blake's diversion... or perhaps a fly.

"So... what's the punchline here? What's Breaking Bad got to do with anything?"

"Bottle episode! That's what they call it. Like, everything's in a bottle."

"OK..."

"I don't know if I actually even had a point. I just wanted to say something negative about Breaking Bad without someone jumping down my throat. I like Breaking Bad a lot. I think everyone should watch it, but... it's not like it's actually perfect. Maybe being here with just you and me... I felt comfortable expressing that."

"Might be better if I'd actually seen it and could agree or disagree." Lena said. "Lots of videos on the Internet have people making arguments against films or TV that people just believe without ever giving the original media a fair chance."

"True."

Lena wriggled herself out of Blake's grip and turned off the game console, sitting turned on yet unused. She sighed softly.

"I'm hungry."

"Me, too."

They checked the freezer for anything for lunch. Lena was excited to see a box of frozen microwavable White Castle hamburgers. Blake had never even heard of White Castle. The burgers weren't a patch on the genuine article, but they only took two minutes to warm up. Blake wondered how much longer it took for Lena to warm up.

Once her second slider was gone, there was something else that Lena was evidently still chewing on.

"When does Walter tell Jesse that secret?"

"At the last possible second." Blake tried to talk politely with her mouth partially full. "The final opportunity where it would make any dramatic sense, they just threw it out there. It's sort of dumb. They were painted into a corner, and not doing it at all would have been super unsatisfying. It's the same thing where they pair off all the characters on the last episode of a sitcom."

"Yeah, God forbid anyone stays single at the end of a show." Lena snapped. "Like it's impossible to be happy if you're not married or shooting little twerps out your snatch. And this is after teasing it for seven years. Just get on with it and fuck already. What are you waiting for? At least most romantic comedies are only two hours."

"Breaking Bad was sort of weird about revealing secrets like that. His wife founds out about the drugs at the start of the third season, and the scene has no weight. It feels like he confessed to eating the last piece of cake or something."

"Well, secrets are like butts." Lena wiped her lips with a folded paper towel. "Everyone has them and we pretend ours are smaller."

Blake turned her head towards Lena. "Not... literally everyone has a secret."

"In my experience... yes, literally everyone." Lena insisted. "Goes double for futa. We're either keeping our bodies secret... or we're keeping our fetishes secret from our lovers in case we drive them away."

"What's yours, then?"

Lena did a small double-take, disarmed. "What?"

"What's your secret?" She repeated. "If everyone has one, so do you. What is it?"

Lena smacked her lips quietly. She could really go for a soda right about now. Surely, all of it was earmarked for someone else. Besides, it was probably all diet.

"It's a secret." She piped, her voice slightly restrained.

"Come on. You're no fun."

"You already told me I'm no fun when I wouldn't bring you breakfast in bed. That's not persuasive."

Blake slid across the couch and pressed her naked torso up against Lena, putting her head on her shoulder. "Well... it must be REALLY juicy, then. I can just picture it."

Lena turned her head towards her. Blake had closed her eyes, smiling. She really WAS picturing whatever salacious secret she was hiding, possibly remaking all of Breaking Bad in her head to star a tiny Asian woman with a big penis.

She stood up from Blake's loose grip, leaving her to slump over onto the couch. "You want to see? Let's go upstairs."

Blake followed her up. Hopefully, this would all lead back to the bedroom... somehow.

---

Lena brought Blake into the upstairs bedroom where her beanbag chair and television were set up. After the 2009 digital television transition, that CRT television was literally only good for playing older video games. With the SNES detached... it was just a box of plastic and glass.

Lena knelt beside her beanbag chair and flipped up the granny-square blankets. The blankets also hid a few distressed strips of duct tape that sealed some holes and torn seams. Occasionally, two of her sisters would jump onto the bean bag in a moment of unrestrained passion. Even Lena didn't do that to her own bean bag chair, and she was only a hundred pounds.

She slowly unzipped the side of the chair. She put her hand inside, leaving the end of the bag facing upward to keep the little polystyrene dots inside. Within the guts of the chair, there was a smaller, silver bag, the kind that was used to store delicate electronics. The tiny foam dots clung to Lena's hand and arm as eagerly as if her hand was covered in syrup, but they slid off the bag like raindrops.

Inside this bag, Lena had stored a standard black-and-white composition notebook and a ballpoint pen.

Blake looked down at this with a sense of ballooning dread. "Poetry?" She asked nervously.

Lena snickered softly. There were SOME things that could put a damper on Blake's libido, after all.

"There are rules for the houses, just like anywhere else." Lena said. "They're not written down, they're just sort of spread through oral tradition. I don't personally like that. I prefer when things can't change from mouth to mouth, from mind to mind. So... I've been writing them down."

The first several pages were filled with text, black ink with blue occasionally interspersed. It all detailed discussions and conclusions about rules. The first page was mostly filled with a list of ruled that were established by the debates within. They weren't numbered or set in order of importance.

"Right here, here's a rule that's not exactly obvious." She pointed to a line on the front page. "Don't use the fridge to cool off. You see it in those commercials for air conditioners, where people fan themselves with the fridge door. That's not allowed. You can open it, get a tickle, and then grab something and close it. There are more sensible ways to cool off, and if we broke either fridge by overloading the motor, it'd be really expensive to replace."

Blake envisioned a modern stainless steel fridge in the middle of the slightly dilapidated kitchen in this abandoned farmhouse, as out of place as an ancient Egyptian tomb relief featuring the pharaohs playing basketball.

"I get that rule." Blake said. "One person cooling off for a few seconds isn't as important as us keeping food fresh and getting cold drinks."

"Yeah, there was no meaningful opposition to that rule." Lena flipped a few pages and found a more recent discussion. "Here, someone proposed a rule that would disallow having sex on the stairs. It was argued that blocking the stairs is dangerous if someone's trying to get past them."

"That sounds reasonable." Blake agreed. "It sounds dangerous just to do it on the stairs at all."

"Well, it didn't end up becoming a real rule. Because most of the others talking couldn't remember ever seeing two people actually having sex on the stairs"

"That ALSO sounds reasonable." She said.

"What took precedence was... we don't make a rule unless we have to." Lena said. "It was argued that people doing it on the stairs was rare, and a sister who had to get past could either break it up... or wait, rather than pass when it might be unsafe to do so. And if they absolutely had to get down because of a fire or something, then they can just break it up.

"A lot of things we don't have rules for are things that solve themselves. There's no rule to not touch stuff with someone else's name on it. There's no rule that says you have to bathe regularly. It's not even that nobody will fuck you if you're not nice and clean. Didn't stop anyone at Woodstock. But it's over ninety degrees every day for about five months out of the year and a cold shower really helps take the edge off. It solves itself.

"You've seen what the government--even small towns and busybody city councils--do when a new law is put in place, right? It's just permission to mess with everyone. Some salon has an expired license. Someone parked at a malfunctioning parking meter. Someone's grass got too long. It's an excuse to act important and impose their will. A lot of stuff will auto-correct and work itself out in a community as small as ours.

"This is the reason I write down the gist of all these discussions." Lena tapped the face of the notebook with her pen. "I don't write down WHO was making each argument, because that's not important. Someone might be playing Devil's advocate or trying to point out a logical problem with someone's argument. It's only important to note the arguments that were being proposed."