girl babies because they figured we didn’t count for much—apparently, as we are slowly taking over the world, they figured wrong,” she said.
“This is true,” Chase said. She watched with interest as Donna extricated herself from the harness and with one quick snap removed the dildo. Before she knew it or could stop herself, she said, “You’re very proficient at that.”
Donna didn’t even blush.
“Knowledge is power,” Bud said.
“Exactly. The classes at the Institute are very informative,” Donna said, handing the apparatus to Bud, who put it in her desk drawer.
“Is that a good idea?” Chase said.
“I only did one drawing. I’m good, but I’m not that good. I’m going to need more practice. Maybe next time you can model for me,” Bud said.
Chase blushed. “Oh, I don’t think so.”
Donna, ever helpful, said, “I can show you how it works.”
“Maybe some other time. Besides, Gitana is making dinner. Are you staying?”
“I’d love to, but I’m meeting Isabel at the Macaroni Grill. We’re going over the library budget.”
“That’s sounds fun,” Chase said.
“Oh, I think it will be. The food is good, and Isabel is very numbers oriented.”
Bud rolled at her eyes at Chase, who smiled sardonically.
“So I’m off,” Donna said, gathering her purse and briefcase.
After she left, Bud said, “Do you think that Donna has an interest in Isabel?”
Chase contemplated and then nixed the idea. “I don’t think so.”
“Hmm…” Bud said.
“We better get inside before there’s an accident,” Chase said.
“When you say things like that you’re manifesting the possibility of such a happening,” Bud said as they crossed the yard.
Apparently, Chase’s manifestation powers were amped up because when they entered the kitchen Gitana was standing with oven mitts on looking dismayed at the blob that filled the inside of the oven. The blob grew exponentially.
“What the hell is that?” Chase said, moving back as the thing inflated like an over-sized beach ball. Whatever it was, she didn’t want it all over her brand-new Nike trainers.
Gitana stared in mortification. “It was supposed to be rosemary and garlic bread from scratch. I wanted to surprise you guys. I’ve never baked bread before.”
“That’s bread?” Chase said, stepping back again.
The beach ball grew and grew covering the floor as it overflowed from the oven.
Gitana teared up. “It was supposed to be baking.”
Chase glanced over at Bud, who was perusing the cookbook. “How much yeast did you put in?”
“Two and a half cups per loaf like the recipe called for. Why?”
The blob surrounded the kitchen stools, smashing up against them and ballooning upward. Bud looked down, alarmed.
“How many loaves are we talking?” Chase asked.
“Five,” Gitana said, biting her lip. “I thought I might take some to work.”
“I think the yeast is the problem,” Bud said, tucking her legs under her as the dough crept higher.
Gitana looked imploringly at Bud.
“I think you mixed up the yeast to flour ratio. It may have been crucial. In terms of the physics…I’m just sayin’.”
Chase noticed the dropping of the “g” and winced but remembered she had told Bud to throw one of those grammatical slurs in once in a while. “She put in too much yeast?”
Gitana’s shoes were disappearing under the blob. She stepped back up against the fridge.
“The recipe calls for one and a half teaspoons of yeast. She put in two and a half cups.”
“Where’d you get that much yeast?” Chase inquired. “I mean, don’t they come in those small packages?”
“I got the economy can at Costco. You know, the kind restaurants use.”
“Oh,” Chase said, wondering if there was any left. If so, it needed to disappear. She stepped back and pulled Gitana with her, worrying that they both might get swallowed up.
“What am I going to do?” Gitana said, looking forlorn.
“Good question,” Chase said,
“This is true,” Chase said. She watched with interest as Donna extricated herself from the harness and with one quick snap removed the dildo. Before she knew it or could stop herself, she said, “You’re very proficient at that.”
Donna didn’t even blush.
“Knowledge is power,” Bud said.
“Exactly. The classes at the Institute are very informative,” Donna said, handing the apparatus to Bud, who put it in her desk drawer.
“Is that a good idea?” Chase said.
“I only did one drawing. I’m good, but I’m not that good. I’m going to need more practice. Maybe next time you can model for me,” Bud said.
Chase blushed. “Oh, I don’t think so.”
Donna, ever helpful, said, “I can show you how it works.”
“Maybe some other time. Besides, Gitana is making dinner. Are you staying?”
“I’d love to, but I’m meeting Isabel at the Macaroni Grill. We’re going over the library budget.”
“That’s sounds fun,” Chase said.
“Oh, I think it will be. The food is good, and Isabel is very numbers oriented.”
Bud rolled at her eyes at Chase, who smiled sardonically.
“So I’m off,” Donna said, gathering her purse and briefcase.
After she left, Bud said, “Do you think that Donna has an interest in Isabel?”
Chase contemplated and then nixed the idea. “I don’t think so.”
“Hmm…” Bud said.
“We better get inside before there’s an accident,” Chase said.
“When you say things like that you’re manifesting the possibility of such a happening,” Bud said as they crossed the yard.
Apparently, Chase’s manifestation powers were amped up because when they entered the kitchen Gitana was standing with oven mitts on looking dismayed at the blob that filled the inside of the oven. The blob grew exponentially.
“What the hell is that?” Chase said, moving back as the thing inflated like an over-sized beach ball. Whatever it was, she didn’t want it all over her brand-new Nike trainers.
Gitana stared in mortification. “It was supposed to be rosemary and garlic bread from scratch. I wanted to surprise you guys. I’ve never baked bread before.”
“That’s bread?” Chase said, stepping back again.
The beach ball grew and grew covering the floor as it overflowed from the oven.
Gitana teared up. “It was supposed to be baking.”
Chase glanced over at Bud, who was perusing the cookbook. “How much yeast did you put in?”
“Two and a half cups per loaf like the recipe called for. Why?”
The blob surrounded the kitchen stools, smashing up against them and ballooning upward. Bud looked down, alarmed.
“How many loaves are we talking?” Chase asked.
“Five,” Gitana said, biting her lip. “I thought I might take some to work.”
“I think the yeast is the problem,” Bud said, tucking her legs under her as the dough crept higher.
Gitana looked imploringly at Bud.
“I think you mixed up the yeast to flour ratio. It may have been crucial. In terms of the physics…I’m just sayin’.”
Chase noticed the dropping of the “g” and winced but remembered she had told Bud to throw one of those grammatical slurs in once in a while. “She put in too much yeast?”
Gitana’s shoes were disappearing under the blob. She stepped back up against the fridge.
“The recipe calls for one and a half teaspoons of yeast. She put in two and a half cups.”
“Where’d you get that much yeast?” Chase inquired. “I mean, don’t they come in those small packages?”
“I got the economy can at Costco. You know, the kind restaurants use.”
“Oh,” Chase said, wondering if there was any left. If so, it needed to disappear. She stepped back and pulled Gitana with her, worrying that they both might get swallowed up.
“What am I going to do?” Gitana said, looking forlorn.
“Good question,” Chase said,
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