The Grande Futapest Hotel Ch. 05

THURSDAY

Once again, Layla woke to the gentle brightness filtering through the semisheer curtains of this bedroom. At some point in the early morning slumber, Layla had taken one of the many pillows on the bed and wrapped her arms around it lovingly. Layla looked at it and imagined Selena coaxing herself out of Layla's sleepy grip with this feathery facsimile, the way an adventurer in an unsavory bar might replace the sleeping drunk's bottle with an empty one.

Again, Selena's side of the bed was cold. She'd evidently woken long ago, probably already hard at work. Even though they went to bed at the same time, Layla always slept later because she probably spent an hour each night trying to reconcile what had happened to her. She was sleeping with the most famous porn star in the world, and the sexiest futa that ever existed. How could she be so lucky? What had she done so right?

As it turned out, trying to dismiss these thoughts was no easier at night than in the morning. When she was resting against Selena's breast, she could feel her soft flesh, smell her hair, feel her heart beating significantly slower than hers. In the morning... she was alone. Even though she knew this was one of Selena's bedrooms, she feared waking up and realizing that this whole thing had been a wonderful dream to which the rest of her life would compare unfavorably.

Layla stayed in bed just a little longer before finally throwing the sheets off her and showering. This was the first time she'd managed to take an entire shower in Selena's house without getting an erection.

As she left the shower, she again contemplated the white robe. She didn't really want to strut around naked again, in case there was some other unexpected guest that Selena hadn't told her about. Then again, that prank they pulled on all those fussy businessmen where she flashed her hard boner at all of them... that was definitely more exciting than she thought it'd be.

Layla decided to forego the white robe and dress in her normal bra, camisole and yoga pants. The sweatshirt she normally wore around her waist to hide her bulge... she wore that the traditional way, around her torso, her half-chub already swelling eagerly down one of her pant legs.

Layla walked out from the bedroom and found Selena right where she expected her to: at the kitchen, sat in front of an empty plate and can of pineapple juice, her breakfast long gone. Layla was briefly surprised to see Selena frowning, as if something was troubling her.

Selena looked up, and suddenly beamed with happiness. The trouble had faded away instantly. This dramatic change of mood stemmed exclusively from seeing Layla, whom Selena knew for certain she would see. But her smile was as genuine and happy as if they happen to run into each other in a supermarket in a neighborhood where neither of them lived.

And Layla wasn't even naked.

Layla darted to Selena, and they kissed slowly, luxuriating in every twist of their lips. Layla's hand explored between Selena's legs, fondling her balls gently as Selena rubbed Layla through the lycra of her yoga pants.

Selena brought her lips to Layla's neck, kissed it and purred against it. Layla jumped and giggled uncontrollably.

"Minx." Selena whispered into Layla's ear.

"What's for breakfast?" Layla whispered back.

"You." Selena took Layla's shoulders and brought her down onto the countertop, her legs hanging off the end. Selena held her down and spiraled her tongue all over her. Layla moaned wildly, barely able to think. She tried to say something close to "Oh my God, oh my God," but she could never quite get her breath out enough to make it comprehensible. Selena unzipped her hoodie and buried her face into Layla's cleavage.

A few minutes of loving necking later, Selena held Layla's arms out, fingers interwoven with hers, as she gave Layla one long kiss.

"I needed that." Selena grinned.

"I think I need a lot more."

"I could sit here all day and do nothing but kiss you..." Selena cooed.

Layla blushed.

"But I do need to do lots of stuff today. I won't be able to do it tomorrow." She explained.

"OK." Layla sat up, adjusting herself out of her pant leg. She went to the breadbox and retrieved an asiago cheese bagel for breakfast. In the short time Selena's mighty toaster took to cook it, Selena had returned to her hunched position at the island.

"I have to say, Selena, your toaster is legit. I..." Layla noticed Selena's darkened mood had returned. "Are you OK, Selena?" She asked across the less decorated half of her bagel.

"I'm better now, but something made me unhappy this morning." Selena confessed. She retrieved a folded letter set above an envelope. "I got a letter from the homeowner's association."

"You have a homeowner's association?" Layla said. "I thought that was just for condos and gated communities."

"That's what I thought. I've also never paid them a cent, as far as I know. So... that's why this letter is so upsetting." She gestured with the letter, but didn't open it again. She knew what it said. "The letter is from several neighbors that are complaining that my lawn looks like crap."

Layla blinked. "It's January."

"In this house, yes." Selena said. "Would you be willing to type out a response letter for me?"

"I don't do a lot of typing." Layla confessed. "I was too young to get into the cybersex chat stuff. It's all audio and video now."

"Well, you're definitely faster than me."

They went to Layla's laptop. She opened her word processing software and began typing as Selena dictated her letter.

---

"To the Homeowner's Association of Tarzana,

I have received your letter of January 12, where you discuss what you consider to be the poor condition of my lawn. In response to your request, I must decline to take any further action.

Included is a page from my calendar, where I have circled the month. You must know what month it is, since you mentioned it in your letter to me. My lawn always looks bad in January for the same reason that in June, my snowman is nothing but two pieces of coal and a carrot posed suggestively in a warm puddle of water. It's not the right season. I don't feel it necessary to make my lawn look good in the winter, especially in the middle of this severe drought."

The last clause of that sentence was said with such severity, Layla quickly highlighted it and put it in italics. It seemed appropriate.

"In March," Selena continued. "I will reactivate my sprinkler system and will water my lawn to the exact specifications allowed by the mandatory water conservation methods imposed by the state of California. As far as conspicuous water consumption, I only have my small pool. I have no fountains, vine trellises, koi ponds, hot tubs, topiary bushes or orchard or other fruit-bearing trees or plants. I can't say that for most of my neighbors. I am very interested in getting California out of this drought, and if my lawn looks bad while aquifers and reservoirs are restored, so be it.

"As a matter of fact, to preserve water, there's plenty of times where I commit that deepest sin of the self-consciously preppy Californian. Sometimes, I wash my hair every other day. You may share this salacious detail with the gossip magazine of your choice with my compliments.

"Thank you for your letter. In lieu of actually paying dues to your super secret clubhouse, please accept in this parcel about one hundred burned DVDs of pornography, totaling about two hundred and forty fun-filled hours, along with hundreds of thousands of pictures. Most of it stars yours truly, but not all of it, by any means. My filing system needs work, but my lawn is working exactly as expected.

"Once you've relieved all your pent-up sexual tension, please focus on growing your careers and families instead of trying to grow meaningless plant life to impress the neighbors that you hate.

"Yours very truly... Selena Grande."

Layla stopped typing not long after Selena has finished. Selena looked over Layla's shoulder. "Wow, you kept up with me."

"Well, I made a lot of mistakes." Layla pointed to the numerous red squiggles decorating the underside of misspelled words. "But I figured I had time to fix them later. It's not like it's a typewriter."

"How fast ARE you, anyway?"

Selena encouraged Layla to open the first typing speed test website that came up on Google. She scored 59 words per minute with no mistakes.

"That's really fast." Selena said. "That's good enough to work as a secretary, I'll bet."

"I guess typing in chat really has given me some practice." Layla pressed her knuckles together with her other hand and shook it out. "But I couldn't keep that up."

"Yeah, there's no restful masturbation between flurries of typing." Selena said, to Layla's sputtering laughter. "They might frown on that in the office."

"Well, I'm probably way faster on the phone." Layla said. "Is there an app where two people can text-fight or text-race each other as a game?"

"I don't know." Selena said. "But that's a good idea. Maybe I should... hire someone to make that. I don't even know how I'd do that."

Layla saved the document, hoping it wouldn't get lost in the cloud of disorganized icons on her desktop. "Are you really giving them tons of porn?" Layla asked.

"No. All the DVD-Rs are blank. I just want to get rid of them because my computer doesn't even have a DVD drive anymore, much less a burner. But that way... they hopefully won't try to publish this letter anywhere."

"If that's the kind of letter you're writing, are you sure you should send it?"

Selena looked at the screen and glanced over the letter again. "Maybe we won't actually send those DVDs, then. I just don't know how to get rid of them without throwing them out."

"If you sent them, you'd be kicking the can down the street. It'd basically be, 'here, take my garbage. You deal with it.'"

"That's essentially how I feel about their letter."

"Yeah, but... maybe we shouldn't escalate it." She closed her laptop. "Why don't you use a laptop, anyway?" Layla asked. "Why do you have a desktop? You got this big house, and you could work anywhere."

"That's part of the reason I like having an office." Selena said. "Means I have one less bedroom that hardly ever get used."

A small pause. "But there is a bed in there."

"Yeah, I can't move a mattress and bed frame by myself." Selena answered. "Or maybe I can, but I just haven't bothered."

Layla faced Selena with a gentle expression, her eyebrows turned up a bit. She didn't even have to say anything.

Unlike most times a woman looked at Selena with that expression in a conversation that involved a bed, this one didn't end in intercourse. Selena got her hex wrench set from the kitchen and they started disassembling the bed in her office.

"This is why I chose this bedroom as my office, because this is the only bed that's sort of cheap like this. The other ones are all hardwood and I have no idea if I could get them apart." Selena said as they unscrewed the pieces of the frame. One by one, the four planes of the bed came apart, and they hoisted them to the garage.

"I'm sorry that I'm not stronger." Layla said. "I'm more Olive Oyl than Popeye."

"Don't worry about it. I just need two sets of hands."

Soon, the bed frame, mattress and box spring were all in the garage. Layla slowly caught her breath. "I feel like helping someone move is the greatest challenge to a friendship."

"We're not quite done yet." Selena returned to the kitchen to find her purse, and her phone. She called one of her contacts. "Hey, Sam? It's Selena. Can I ask a favor of you? Can I put a bed I'm getting rid of outside your home? I just don't want to see someone take this bed and put it on Ebay as an 'official bed that Selena Grande slept in,' you know? OK, we'll be right over."

"We will?"

Selena and Layla shuffled the bed, piece by piece, out Selena's garage door to her next-door neighbor's property, accented with a paper sign taped to it that said "FREE" in capital letters.

"We're not going inside?"

"Oh, he's not home right now."

"Won't one of your neighbors complain about this?"

"Who'd complain about a free bed?"

"But... won't it look trashy?"

"If nobody wants it, the trash men will take it." Selena figured. "So yeah, I guess it will look trashy."

"I can't imagine why your homeowner's association is on your case."

"Hey, it's not my bed anymore. It's Sam's. In fact, it's not even his. It has been taken to the curb, so it's been disclaimed. Anyone who wants it, it's theirs."

They returned to the house through Selena's garage. Only now did Layla realize she'd never once entered Selena's house through the front door. "Now what?" She asked.

"Since we're already sweaty, let's go work out."

"I think you're overestimating how sweaty I got from that..." Layla said, nevertheless following her to the workout room. Once they stepped into the workout, Layla felt something vibrate in her chest. She pulled out her phone from its occasional resting place in her shirt.

"You brought your phone in here?" Selena asked.

"It was in my pocket!"

"Those yoga pants have pockets? That's super useful."

Layla scratched her neck. "Well, I mean my bra."

"Ah." Selena said, pulling her shirt off over her head, her huge breasts falling gently and freely against her ribs. "I never do that. I kept hearing about that thing about cell phones causing brain cancer, and figured... yeah, I can't afford to leave it between my boobs, whether or not that's true."

The sight of Selena casually whipping her shirt off caused Layla's heart to pound and feel a sudden rush of heat from somewhere inside her. "So I guess you've never texted someone and placed it on your balls waiting for a response?"

"All my friends take forever to respond to texts." Selena took off her skirt. "They're all too busy to help me masturbate. That's why I need an assistant; to text me repeatedly so I can masturbate with my phone, rather than just buy a vibrator."

Selena approached the elliptical machine. Layla gently moved between Selena and the machine. Layla grinned at her. "I mean... I could just give you a hand job."

Leaning in, Selena whispered, "You think you're ready for that?"

They both looked down between Selena's legs, where her mighty cock slowly rose like a wobbly drawbridge. Layla closed her mouth and swallowed the drool her brain insisted she would soon need.

"I've practiced for this for years." Layla smiled.

Selena brought Layla's chin up with her thumb, looking her in the eye. "Alright. Let's work on your upper body strength."

Layla diligently curled two five-pound dumbbells for almost six minutes. She could have kept going, but Selena couldn't exercise while watching Layla's form and making sure she was doing it right. She kept rocking back as she lifted the weights, or letting gravity bring the weights down instead of lowering them slowly. To be fair, Layla had never held a dumbbell before, not even in gym class.

Selena moved to the stationary bike while Layla moved to the treadmill.

"You work out pretty hard, huh?" Layla said while jogging in place.

"I work out as hard as I feel like to stay reasonably trim." Selena said. "I almost have a flat stomach, but I'll never have actual defined abs, so I don't see the need to work out hard enough to get those. Besides..." Selena turned, brushing some sweaty hair out of her face with her forearm. "The last thing I want is to get jacked."

"Oh, that won't happen unless you go totally nuts." Layla said. "Those fitness models on Instagram set up their whole lives around fitness, sort of the way you do around... sexual performance."

"Maybe, but it's different for futa." Selena kept pedaling. "I knew a very fit futa porn star who started to get even more ripped. She wanted to move into the muscle fetish market. But her fans didn't like it... and her popularity faltered."

"Because people thought she was a man." Layla completed the thought.

"Yeah..." Selena said, with evident disdain. "You would figure that her vagina would say something to the contrary."

"Ugh, I don't like that word." Layla said. "Pussy is such a better word."

"It is." Selena said. "But 'vagina' is better than... the C word."

"Well, I never hear anyone use that word to mean 'pussy.' I only hear it from my Australian fans call each other that word. They use it like 'bloke' or 'bastard.'"

"You have fans in Australia?" Selena said. "What time must it be there when you're streaming?"

"It depends where in Australia they are, I guess. Australia's huge."

"So is America." Selena noticed that Layla had started slowing down her jog to a walk. "Now don't YOU slow down because you're afraid of getting muscles." Selena scolded. "I need to start cracking the whip. You're supposed to be learning how to be more disciplined so you can hold back."

"You want me to be too exhausted to whack off?"

"You need to distract yourself so you won't think about whacking off."

"YOU'RE the distraction! YOU'RE the reason I want to whack off!"

"Well, use it!" Selena kept pedaling. "I'll drag this bike over in front of there if you want to imagine you're chasing me, trying to win the reward of bedding me. Unless you're already bored of me, after having already done it."

Layla picked up the pace. "Of course not."

---

"Can you meet me in the kitchen?"

This was the text that brought Layla out of the television room. Selena had some boring office work to do for work, which took up an embarrassingly large portion of her workday. So, she let Layla watch TV for a while. Layla returned to the kitchen, where Selena was standing in the kitchen with arms folded, like she was waiting for a bus.

"What's up, Selena?" Layla asked.

"Come with me." She said. Layla followed her. "I didn't want to text you, 'could you meet me in the bedroom' because that wouldn't have been very clear."

"Do you have a system for telling the different bedrooms apart?"

"No, not really. Maybe I should put up numbers like in a hotel. If I actually have guests crashing here, I usually tell them to sleep wherever they want."

"How many guests are bold enough to actually sleep with you?" Layla asked.

"So far?" Selena turned back. "Just you."

They entered one of the bedrooms, and Selena strode past the bed and into the bathroom. "Layla..." Selena turned around on her heel, gesturing to the toilet silently, with the disapproving look married with the smirk of a woman who would enjoy dispensing the spankings.

Layla looked at the toilet. Nothing about it seemed amiss. "What?"

"You left the seat up." She pointed.

Layla's brow lowered. "It wasn't me."

"There's only two of us here, Layla."

"It wasn't me." Layla repeated. "I almost never pee standing up."

Selena's pretend disapproval slipped away. "Oh." She said. "Maybe it WAS me, then."

"You pee standing up?"

"I have to. Otherwise, I..." Selena leaned in to whisper. "I sometimes touch the toilet water."

"Ewww."

"Yeah, that's why I don't do it." Selena said. "You ever see a ladies' room with a urinal?"

"No. Is that a thing?"

"In a handful of some very cool places, yeah. I hate when there's a huge line for the ladies' room when all I have to do is pee."

"I'm sure it won't become common, like handicapped parking."

"Well, it's not like we CAN'T use a normal toilet." Selena said. "But it's super cool when I see it."

A few seconds passed. Selena set the toilet seat down herself, pushing the seat over with a tissue and throwing it in the bin.

"Well..." She said. "I guess this meeting is adjourned, then."

They walked out of the bathroom. "Layla?"

"Yes?"

"Could you throw these sheets into the wash, please?" Selena asked.

Layla looked over. This was the bedroom where Selena had played that trick on her with the chat-controlled vibrator.