Surface Tension

Story by Senshi

SUMMARY: A futanari and her girlfriend struggle with conflicting and seemingly irrational emotions when an old acquaintance returns and interferes with their romance.

The Francesca Ashlee Laundromat was an establishment known for its sordidness. Nothing worked like it should. The washers in the middle of the building completed their cycles whenever they felt like it. The dryers that lined the walls seldom heated their load. The vending machines beside the entrance refused to dispense their product. And the bill changers beside them shortchanged customers or offered quarters from Canada.

Nothing at the facility looked and smelled like it should, either. An attendant had wiped the countertops and mopped and swept the tiles. But the cleaning had been hasty, so the surfaces retained some of their filth. The smell of urine and feces emanated from a restroom frequented by addicts. And the scent of ash and smoke wafted from the corner office beside it. The perfume created by the detergent and fabric softener offset the odors. And that made patronage somewhat tolerable.

Like all Irvine’s citizens, Marion and Heather hated going to the place. But traveling to it was a convenience. Marion Wallace lived on Ashlee Street and Heather Lovelace lived on Francesca Avenue. And since Marion lacked a vehicle or license, that made the location a necessity. Heather had a car—albeit a beater—and a license. But the girl’s irrational conservation of gas and mileage made her stingy and stupid.

I cannot wait to leave this shit hole. Marion stuffed her clothing into a pair of dryers. This day’s been a drag. Nothing but work and chores. I need a fucking break. And some ass. I’m hoping Heather will want to smash tonight. Because I need her kisses. And I need her touch. And I need her warmth. It’s been a while since we’ve fucked. We’ve both got to be feening for it.

Marion paid the fee, pressed a button, and watched her garments spin and tumble behind the glass. She set a timer on her smartphone as Heather approached her. “Ten minutes and we’re out of this bitch.” She noted the chips and spring water in Heather’s grasp. “You went to the store?”

Heather shook her head. “The snack and drink machines are working this time.”

Marion checked her pockets and felt air and lint. “Fuck, I’m broke.” She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Yo, babe, give me the rest of your change. I want something sweet to eat.”

Heather smirked and said, “I can help you with that,” as she handed Marion the money. “And it won’t cost you a thing.”

“Hey, I’m gonna hold you to that,” Marion said before heading for the vendors.

“Marion, wait,” Heather said.

Marion stopped in her tracks and Heather caught up with her.

“What’s up?” Marion asked.

“You see that girl sitting by the door?” Heather whispered. “The one reading that old fashion magazine?”

Marion glanced at the girl on the bench. She was a tall, busty, and slender cutie. She looked familiar, but Marion didn’t think she knew her. She shifted her gaze to Heather before shrugging.

“She’s been ogling you since we arrived. You’re mine. Tell her to stop it.”

“What? Fuck that. She could be a schoolmate or a fan or something.”

“I’d remember her if she went to our school. I mean look at her. She’s a fucking beanstalk. There’s probably a giant and a castle in her pigtail puffs.”

Marion rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Come on, babe, please.”

“Goddammit. Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll have a chat with her.”

“Thanks. You’re a sweetheart. I’ll keep an eye on your clothes while you’re straightening her out. But I’ll intervene if things get heated.”

Marion huffed and stamped her feet as she approached the girl. She squeezed the change in her fist. Rage kept her from remembering its purpose. But it didn't matter. The stink of the mat, the nagging of her girlfriend, and the deprivation of coitus had stolen her hunger. And created a time bomb. She pocketed the currency before confronting the stranger. She needed to explode and vent her frustration. She thanked Heather for giving her an excuse. “Yo, bitch! Did you like what you saw?”

The girl kept her eyes on the mag and giggled as she turned a page. “If I say yes, do I have to put a hold on you?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Marion asked. “I just want to know what you’re looking at.”

“I’m looking at this supermodel’s assets and ensemble. Her hat, dress, and slippers are to die for. And her breasts and buttocks are a sight to behold. But I’ve got her beat on all accounts.” She smiled and looked Marion in the eye. “Would you cosign that statement, baby girl?”

“Baby girl?” Marion said.

“Your parents and auntie used to call you that.”

“Yeah, and nothing’s changed on that front.” Marion’s anger faded and curiosity replaced it. She tilted her head and squinted at the girl. “I guess you know me, huh?”

“Yup. And you know me. You just need to remember

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