Snektember/Snektober Lewd! F/M Fall Camp Counselor oneshot

The wind was hot. Humid. Alien.

Lt. Colonel Randy Dickins (Retired) stared out his office window into the gently swaying tree-line 300 meters from the edge of camp. He inhaled deeply through his nose, savoring all the strange new scents that came with this foreign world. It was like learning the scent of a new woman.

A woman that wanted to kill you, and feed your guts to her ravenous children.

He scowled, a mixture of fury and grim determination on his face.

The camp would be full of fresh faces and soft bodies in 2 hours, none of them ready for what lurked in the trees. Oh sure, the daily high never got above 305 degrees Kelvin, and the humidity fluctuated between 40 and 60% at most, but it was a deceptive comfort. It was a siren song, trying to lull you into complacency and draw you out into it for a relaxing walk. That’s when they would get you.

The wildlife here was nothing like what was on Earth. Oh sure, earth wildlife had claws, or fangs, or venom, but all of it had learned to be afraid of humans, of men. Here, the wildlife was still wild, untamed . . . unafraid. It would walk right up to you, let you pet it. Damnably gentle things would even follow you around like they were in a Disney movie, but with more colors.

The colors . . . how he hated them. Oranges, blues, yellows and violets, it would make a man stare in awe for minutes at the sheer beauty of some of the songbirds out in that vile forest. He’d lost good campers, promising young recruits to the inspiring allure of “artistry” and “peaceful reflection on nature” and “being happy.”

His scowl deepened further. “Absolutely disgusting,” he growled under his breath, voice so gravely it sounded like he couldn’t breathe except through a lit Marlboro Red. He’d only been happy 2 times in his life, the day he joined the Corps, and that one time he’d gotten shore leave in Taiwan. He clenched his jaw, teeth grinding audibly.

He’d taken this civilian posting so that he could try and instill discipline, focus, commitment, will, and a martial spirit in some of the next generation. Oh, it was true that the human military couldn’t hold a candle to the kinds of prowess, technology, and tradition that every one of their galactic neighbors had, but it never would unless they started raising these kids right. He straightened his uniform, which in this case was a set of cargo shorts, khaki colored flip-flops, and a T-shirt that said Senior Camp Counselor across both the front and back. It was unconventional as uniforms went, but the it’s the man that makes the uniform, not the other way around.

A quiet cough came from behind him. His adjutant, and junior counselor, was sitting in his office, waiting for a mission assignment. Lt. Colonel Dickins turned away from the open window sharply, his intensely blue gaze framed by a silvering crew cut. “You’re telling me, that not a one, not a single human child has volunteered for the updated, expanded, and enhanced camp curriculum I proposed?”

Neither of them were having a good day.

Andy, the junior counselor, visibly withered under the intensity of his boss’s gaze. “Ahh . . . well sir-” the Lt. Colonel never asked to be called sir, Andy was just afraid he’d break him in half if he didn’t. “Well sir, since you replaced the shaving cream fight, crafts section, and nature hikes with calisthenics, calisthenics 2, and ‘endurance testing’ . . . the amount of human children interested in our particular camp has declined markedly. Eh, sir.”

There was a pause, where Andy genuinely feared for his life.

“. . . and all we have are Dorarizen, Jornissian, and Karnakian campers volunteering for the program?” The Lt. Colonel’s words were undercut with a tone that implied imminent violence.

Andy swallowed hard. “Well, ah . . . they have very different physical limits than humans, and your . . . admittedly rigorous plan based around physical exertion, hand to hand combat training, navigation, and wilderness survival-”

He froze as the Lt. Colonel (Retired) blinked. “I-it’s just a lot more palatable for them. They uh . . . they think it sounds fun, and relaxing.” He hadn’t realized it, but Andy sometime during the conversation he had started holding the clipboard of scheduled arrivals in front of his chest like a shield.

A low, rumbling growl rose to a shout as the words tore free from the throat of the retired Lt. Colonel. “If they want relaxing . . . I’ll give them so much relaxation they’ll never be at ease and relieved ever again, even in their own, damnable alien homes! Reading the Sunday paper will feel like studying for an engineering certification by the time I’m finished getting these bastards comfortable! By god, if any of them can so much as remember the concept of stress by the time they leave this camp I’ll shoot myself for dereliction of duty!” He slammed his fist onto his desk, eyes ablaze with a furious passion.

==========

The past 2 hours had been a furious storm of altered paperwork, rearranged itinerary, and surprisingly thoughtful additions to existing programs that Andy didn’t think the Lt. Colonel (Retired) had in him. It was amazing how his warrior spirit could be bent towards any task, including that of hospitality. They’d set the 3D printers to making additional misting equipment for the patio dining tables, re-arranged the Dorarizen sleeping assignments to optimize heat-flow out of the hutch at night, added 6 remarkably novel crafts exercises, and produced a specialized cuisine plan for every unique species that would be visiting.

“ . . . geologic survey indicates that the particulate grain-size at the summit of Hill 19 is ideal for Karnakian dusting. We’ll be doing a group hike to that point today, and I want you to stage a refreshment station at the halfway point as well as the end of the trail- No, scratch that. I’m looking at the topography and satellite maps, we’ll want it at in grid Zero-Two-One-Eight. There’s a bit of rough terrain, and then good canopy cover in that sector. Mark the trail with white stones from the shoreline, I don’t want a gaggle of hideous pink plastic strips marring the natural beauty of that tract. How long until the campers arrive?”

Andy was having a hard time writing down the work as fast as he was being assigned it. “Umm . . . now-ish, sir.”

“Now? Well then get out of my damn office and start greeting them! I’ll have an updated list of duties for you by the time you get them all situated.”

==========

Two Jornissians of remarkably similar coloration, if drastically different body shape, waited at the edge of a pre-fabricated landing pad with their respective piles of baggage. Neither of them seemed particularly pleased with the lack of waiting transportation, the duration of the surface to surface shuttle ride, or even each other at present.

Tangerine was Clementine’s brood-sister and best friend in all the galaxy, but sometimes . . . sometimes she had to wonder just what went on in her sister’s head. The body modification was unusual, but honestly it sort of looked right after a while. 5 years on, she couldn’t imagine her sister without that weighty set of mammary simulacrum on her chest. The tube-skirts she had taken to wearing, after human fashion, had been unusual too at first. Now to look at her, in the hip-hugging denim, it seemed to be downright eye-catching.

The pink crop-top with the words “Camp Slut” plastered across the front, in bulging and distorted print from the fabric stretched near to bursting was . . .

Well she hadn’t gotten used to that part yet.

“Clementine . . . what are you wearing? Moreover, why?” Her tone was slightly frustrated, and she surprised herself with how irritably the question was phrased. She knew the answer, she was just hoping she was wrong.

A quiet huff slipped from the generously proportioned Jornissian. “I wanted to take a 2 week vacation to Zephyr Station 9. You wanted to witness the raw and natural beauty of wilderness space. We compromised, and settled on a camp for humans.”

“So why the outfit then?” Tangerine cocked her head to the side, her question still not answered.

“Because if I’m going to have fun on this vacation, I’m going to need to be aggressive about it.” She rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms. The gesture only served to accentuate her amply proportioned breasts.

They’d had similar discussions before. There was a certain passion for “small” things that Clementine had. A passion that bordered on obsession, and definitely ventured into fetishistic. Zephyr Station 9 had a reputation for a very specific kind of behavior, between species of all types. There was no question as to what kind of “fun” her sister was looking for, so Tangerine just hoped she found a healthy outlet.

Heavy silence rested between them for several seconds, before Tangerine finally broke the gaze of her sibling with a heavy sigh. “You’re something else . . .” she muttered, softly, as her head turned towards the source of a faint, high pitched whining sound.

“Finally, someone to take our . . . oh. Well what do we have here?” Clementine practically purred as the driver of the vehicle drew closer and more visible, Tangerine shivered as she watched her sister practically devour the poor creature with her eyes. Her irritation at his tardiness bled away into pity, and quiet hope that he possessed a deceptive amount of youthful stamina. For his own sake.

==========

Don’t look at the snake-tits don’t look at the snake-tits don’t look at the snake-

“So you are the camp counselor?” He could feel her tongue whip past his ear as she hissed the words gently to him. There was a quiet creaking sound as she shifted in her seat, and something soft, warm, and heavy pressed into his back.

Andy, for his part, stared straight ahead with his eyes on the dirt road. Hands at ten and two on the wheel of the small open air transport cart, he was trying to focus on navigating down the rust-red dirt trail. His . . . affectionate passenger in the row behind him was leaning forward rather aggressively, and it was somewhat distracting. It took all his focus and will to keep his eyes locked forward, and he was definitely not thinking about the Jornissian pressing into his back. He was most certainly not thinking about the fact that her crop top said “Camp Slut” on it. He was just looking forward, driving them to camp, and absolutely not thinking about how pleasant it felt to have her shift and rub against him.

“Y-yes. I’m here as part of by xeno-conservatory studies.” His voice quavered slightly as tried to focus on anything but the things he was definitely not thinking about. “It’s part of a work grant program in conjunction with my university and a few private organizations that require semi-skilled, low cost labor in confined spaces. I-initially I was supposed to be analyzing ice-cores for trapped pollen to construct a time-line of flora biodiversity on this world but-”

A pleasant yawn interrupted him, and he felt warm breath on the nape of his neck as a hand draped across his shoulder. “Oh you poor thing! You mean they have you lugging cargo about like some beast of burden instead of letting you pursue your studies!”

He opened his mouth to correct her, but found himself frowning instead as his brow furrowed. “Frankly . . . yes. B-but that’s not your problem!”

Powerful hands descended on his upper back and shoulders, and he found his eyelids fluttering involuntarily as fingers firmly pressed and kneaded the knots of tension that had built up in his neck and back. The abrupt shift from largely mental labor to largely physical labor had been rather taxing, and though he appreciated the noticeable improvement in his muscle tone the price in soreness and fatigue was steep.

“Well . . . I appreciate your hard work.” There was a sibilant, seductive note to Clementine’s words as she whispered them in his ear, and he was doing everything in his power not to respond to it.

Cutting the wheel hard to the right, he nearly slung all of them out of the cart as it hauled down to a sharp stop in front of a small, screened in cabin. A mossy shade of forest green, it was set up to accommodate two dozen human youths, or at least had been before the Lt. Colonel’s surprise re-ordering. Now it was configured to house the only two Jornissian campers they were expecting.

Tangerine’s eyes narrowed, and her tail flicked back and forth impatiently as she disembarked from the transport. “So this is our little bungalow? Any rules on visitors after lights out?”

Andy glanced at Clementine, and found his eyes tracing the scale plates of her midriff as she stretched and arched her back.

The corners of her mouth ticked up in a subtle grin as she caught him looking.

“N-no! I mean, no visitors. O-only people allowed out after lights out are counselors.”

A little sashay of her hips gave away her thoughts immediately. “So . . . maybe I can expect you to call on me sometime?”

“BY THE ANCESTORS, STOP.” Tangerine hissed sharply, making Andy flinch and Clementine scowl. “I’m here to enjoy the natural beauty of this planet, not listen to my sister crudely attempt to bed the faculty of this place.” Her tone shifted to a low grumble, aimed directly at her sister.

Clementine dropped into the front of the cart, taking up almost the entirety of the bench front seat as she pulled her coils up into the small vehicle. She crossed her arms and turned her snout up with a pout. “Then don’t listen. I’ll just ride along with . . . what was your name again?”

“Andy,” he mumbled, pink faced.

“Andy, so you just go ahead and unpack and settle in while Andy here-” She draped her arm around him, and pulled him into her side, inadvertently smashing his face into the side of her breast. “-gives me a tour of the facility.”

Tangerine chuffed softly. “More likely you’re going to give him a tour of your facility . . .”

The two of them stared daggers at each other, each seeming coiled and ready to strike until Andy quietly cleared his throat. “I umm . . . have to pick up the next batch of campers. I-if that’s okay.”

“Sounds lovely, I’ll accompany you.” Clementine turned her snout up at her sibling, pointedly ignoring her while Tangerine unloaded the rest of the baggage. An awkward, and cold silence fell over the three of them until the cart began to softly whine as they pulled away.

Once they were back in the cover of the trees, Andy spoke up. “Sorry that you’re fighting with your sister.” He didn’t really understand why he was apologizing, but he felt that he was somehow a little bit responsible.

The plush and admittedly pleasant shaped Jornissian exhaled slowly through her flared nostrils in a quiet display of fatigue. “We’re like that sometimes. We don’t see eye to eye, and we both want very different things out of life. We care about each other, but our interests couldn’t be further apart.”

“Oh?” He wanted to add a sarcastic “I never would have guessed” but it felt a little bit insensitive, so he held his tongue.

She nodded sagely. “She wanted for us to spend 2 weeks on an un-surveyed world as a relaxing retreat and camp-out to commune with the natural essence of things . . . really examine herself, her goals, and her attitude. She wanted me to come along to do the same.” There was a quiet sigh, as the large-busted serpent morph looked distant and wistful. “I wanted to spend 2 weeks of sexual tourism on Zephyr Station 9, the most liberated place in the galaxy.”

Andy balked at her forthright and frankly blunt attitude, uncertain of how to respond.

She met his nervous glances with a bemused stare. “You’re too smart to play dumb now, honey.” The suspension shifted as she scooted closer to him, and he visibly stiffened as the tip of her tail gently slipped between his legs. “And you’ve been staring a little bit too long for the answer to be an outright no.” Leaning in, the tip of her blunt snout brushed the crown of his head. “Besides . . . all the things I’ve read about human summer-camps seem to indicate this is half of what counselor’s do anyway.”

“T-that’s only in the stories. A-and between counselors.” His tone was faltering, and his gaze was now more fixed on the cleavage hanging inches from his face than the road ahead. “W-what did you say your name was?”

“Clementine. Pleasure to meet you,” she hissed softly into his ear. The blunted tip of her cream colored tail slipped beneath the hem of his shorts, drawing a little gasp from him as the bulge beneath his belt quadrupled in size. Her long, thin, powerfully whip-like tongue tickled his ear as she whispered softly to him. “Oh? Have I done something I shouldn’t have, Mr. Counselor?”

Her attentions were blunt, but not unpleasant, and he found for a moment that he was at a loss for words. He gawped at her audacity for several seconds, before finally managing to stutter out a coherent sentence.

“C-could you not do that while I’m driving? I mean-” He eased on the brakes, bringing the cart from full speed to a gentle stop on the side of the path. “It’s really distracting and I’d like to focus my attention on one or the other.”

Her tail withdrew, but her throat filled with a reptilian hiss of pleasure. “You’re not driving at the moment.” She leaned in, eyes half lidded and level with his.

“Well, not at the moment, no.” He swallowed hard, his heart racing. He could scarcely believe he was doing this, right now, and with a Jornissian but-

His thoughts were interrupted by a set of lips gently pressing against his own, forcefully redirected into observations of how smooth and surprisingly cool they were. A long, powerful, bifurcated tongue invaded his mouth, and he found himself melting into putty. The apprehension he was bearing moments ago faded into the distance of less important thoughts like “we’re going to be late” or “this is definitely against regulations.”

Slipping his hand underneath Clementine’s body-hugging top, Andy’s human palm was barely able to cover the unusually textured Jornissian areola. His fingers dug into the ample orb of pleasantly supple flesh, coaxing a trembling moan from the throat of his lusty alien passenger. She, in turn, firmly grasped the rapidly hardening bulge in his forest green cargo shorts, kneading the masculine tautness of his trousers until his hips rolled into her without conscious prompting.

She broke the kiss suddenly, with nearly half a foot of her pink tongue slipping back out of his mouth as they separated as Andy laughed nervously. “Wow, you, ehh- I’m . . .”

Clementine shushed him gently as she pressed a finger to his lips. “You like ‘em?”

He nodded vigorously, and found his eyes glued to her as she peeled the pink fabric from her body with tantalizing slowness. A perfectly sculpted pair of breasts dropped heavily out of her top as she tossed the surprisingly elastic garment into the back of the cart, and Andy wondered for a moment how such a meager stretch of textile had managed to contain such wonderful, round, and perky sight.

“Good. They were expensive.” She chuckled lightly, but it was less of a joke than a confession. The procedure that had gifted her such a fantastic human feature was costly, experimental, and difficult to acquire. It required stem-cells to be cultivated with hybridized-DNA inside a 3D printed collagen matrix, then micro-sutured into place over a period of hours to ensure a complete vascular inter-meshing over such a large area. Still, she found the sensation of having them played with intensely enjoyable, and the effect they had on most male humans was well worth the price. Plus she could hold a drink between them to free her hands up.

He seemed virtually hypnotized by their gentle sway in the cool air. She did a little shake for her ‘counselor’, stifling her own laughter as his gaze tracked her assets hungrily. “Just going to stare now?” Running her fingers through his light brown hair, she pulled his head closer and let out a little gasp as his warm lips pressed into her. One of her fangs dug into her lower lip as his tongue lashed the fleshy nub that nearly filled his mouth, but he wasn’t so blindly fixated as to neglect her other breast. A free hand squeezed and kneaded her, making her spine arch and her eyelids flutter with pleasure. With a soft moan she pushed him away again, his lips breaking the suction-seal they had formed around her teat with a soft pop that left behind a glistening strand of saliva. “Now the other one.”

Dragging his face back into her bosom, she fanned the flames of rising heat in her depths. Her mind wandered as her hands did, one of them fiddling with the buckle on the front of his trousers. The sensation of scale-less fingers lightly tugging up the hem of her tube-skirt made her coil around him, thick loops of serpentine muscle locking his body against her as the entire cart rocked side to side.

He pulled his head away, gasping for air but still grinning stupidly up at her. “Forward. Aggressively forward.”

“Mhmm. Still need to drive?” She parted the layers of fleshy coil around his midriff, just enough to slip her hand down the front of his now unfastened trousers. Locked in place and lazily restrained by her considerable mass, all he could do was pant as she squeezed a clear dollop of excitement from his mushroom shaped tip. Drawing her hand away to lap the hint of masculine fluid now coating her fingertips, she gave him a coy side eye.

“W-well . . . yes, unfortunately.” He stammered, and there was obvious reticence in his tone.

“Fine.” Lazily, she reached into the back seat of the cart to retrieve her top and tug it back on. “Oh, and I don’t do underwear.”

She could see he was slightly crestfallen as he began to tuck his impressively sized tool (for a human, anyway) back into his trousers with visible discomfort. Her hands wrapped around his wrists, stopping him dead. She dipped her head into his lap, and a low gasp escaped him as her tongue looped itself around his member and began to pump along the shaft. He froze, eyes closing as he leaned back to give her better access, only to sit back up when she unexpectedly stopped. “You need to drive, and I expect you to be in top form tonight, so to solve both our problems, you’re getting what I’m heard is affectionately called “Road Head,” now get a move on!” Her tone was chiding, but there was a relaxed mirth to it.

Tentatively, he placed his hands on the wheel, and turned the key. With a nod of assent, her head disappeared back into his lap. With his elbows practically resting on the back of her head, and his ability to focus on the trail severely diminished, they both began to make progress towards their respective goals. The cart whined and trundled along, bumping over loose stones and through shallow gullies as the Jornissian bobbed her head up and down in his lap. More than once he had to let the cart come to a coasting stop because he was on the verge of climax, but every time he neared his peak her tongue would tightly wrap around his sack. These uncomfortable tugs and squeezes would deny him his orgasm, and stretch the immensely pleasurable encounter out by another two or three minutes. The soft slurping sound of her attentions were drowned out by the whine of the cart motors and his own heavy panting, but as the landing pad came into view.

Giving the pre-fabricated concrete structure an irritated side eye, not for what it was but because it represented the end of this enjoyable dalliance, Clementine redoubled her efforts to bring him to climax. Her throat closed in around his tool, and her tongue squeezed and pumped in asynchronous time to her bobbing head, giving the bizarre sensation of fucking two holes with the same tool at once. Already denied a climax multiple times, Andy barely had time to grunt a half muffled warning before unloading straight down the Jornissian’s throat. Regardless, his seed disappeared without a trace within her, and if she was bothered by his lack of manners she didn’t show it. If anything, she just looked smug as she pulled the far too tight crop top back over her head.

“Your fly is down.” She whispered, softly in his ear as they pulled up to the landing pad, the three Dorarizen campers already unloading. With a quiet yelp of panicked surprise, Andy tucked his equipment away, and silently prayed that no one other than her had noticed.

==========

Andy swallowed hard as he looked up at the dimly lit bungalow that Tangerine and Clementine were bunking in. The afternoon hike Hill 19 had been . . . eventful, with 2 separate “off-trail activities” with Clementine.

He wondered if the other campers noticed. He briefly wondered if he cared. The stairs creaked softly as he took his first tentative step up them, the sound seeming louder and more damning in the dim twilight of the evening.

The door swung open sharply, nearly knocking him over as Tangerine appeared before him. “Don’t. Don’t say anything. I’m going for a walk to the mess hall to eat something with far too much sucrose in it. You have 30 minutes.” As intense as her gaze was, her tone seemed was resigned and tired. She slipped past him without another word, slamming the door behind her loud enough to make him flinch.

Awkwardly he pulled it open, grimacing as he peered into the largely empty room, save for 2 sets of bunk beds.

“Hey.”

Barely visible in the evening gloom, he could only freeze and blink in surprise as he recognized the fully nude form of Clementine. There was a sense of hunger to her words that defied the simple nymphomania she’d demonstrated earlier in the day. He swallowed hard, suddenly nervous about the rendezvous that he’d been looking forward to since they’d parted ways at the very aptly named trailhead.

“Clothes, off. Now.” She hissed, slithering across the floor with speed that belied her size. He began to fumble with his trouser buckle again, only to have them rudely yanked down around his ankles, her momentum carrying the two of them into the door with a dull impact that made the thin walls of the bungalow creak and tremble. There was barely enough time for him to register that his tool had touched the night air before it disappeared down her hot, tight, wet throat.

“A-again? I thought we were-” His speech was interrupted by a powerful scaled hand planted firmly over his mouth and most of his face. He squirmed slightly, only to have his head shoved firmly against doorway. Whatever words he wanted to get out were quickly replaced with pleasant, indistinct, throaty sounds as her head bobbed rapidly up and down his length. With a wet pop, she pulled away, leaving his tool to bob turgidly in the night air, the sudden coolness making him hiss alongside her.

“You’re into this, right?” She asked, softly as she dragged him bodily to the floor. “I mean, I know I’ve been pretty aggressive, but you like that, right? This is entirely consensual.” She sounded almost wary as her coils tightened around him, the surprisingly smooth scales gliding pleasantly across his skin.

He nodded sheepishly, blushing red at her sudden careful concern for him. “It’s . . . you know . . . hot to feel wanted.”

As the moment of surprising emotional intimacy passed between them, and her tongue flicked his nose lightly. “Nerd.”

He gasped suddenly as something hot, wet, and powerfully muscled engulfed his tool. Clamping down firmly, he could only writhe helplessly beneath her as her powerful alien walls milked him in ways he didn’t expect or even think possible. If her mouth had been a divine experience, this could only be described as devilishly pleasurable. His eyes rolled back and he jawed helplessly as he moaned, but her persistent attentions throughout the entirety of the day had left him spend, and slightly numbed. The road to his peak would be long and arduous, and Clementine was intent on enjoying every step of the way.

They coiled about one another, with his arms searching to hold and squeeze and grasp while her entire body clenched around him repeatedly. She was careful not to lose herself in it, as much as she acted like she was losing herself, and he strove to match her vigor in all the ways he could. Even wrapped tightly in her her coils, he could still thrust, twitch, clench, and nip.

The minutes stretched on, and their aggressive ardor of their passion tore through the room, scattering clothes and papers and supplies about carelessly as they focused on one another. It was an asymmetrical dance, but one that both partners enjoyed to the fullest. Clementine could not be satisfied by him, not if he had practiced for a week in advance, but she enjoyed every second of it. Even as he erupted within her, his thin, depleted spurts making her canal tingle with a sticky warmth, she reveled in him. His climax was body wracking, and wonderful, but she knew that in the end . . . she’d get her proverbial pound of flesh.

Lying in a tangled heap of limbs and tail, she lightly played with his hair as he took her to task with his tongue. It surprised him when she gently pushed him away, and the bewildered look on his arousal coated face was enough to actually draw a giggle from her. “Slow down . . . we’ve got two more weeks until I plan on finishing.”

He blinked stupidly, as she leaned in to whisper in his ear. “You humans . . . you think that a lot of sex means climaxing repeatedly. Try edging for two weeks.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek as his eyes went wide.

The door banged open, and Tangerine glowered at the two of them as she slid over to her bunk. “You detached a retina that way, if memory serves.” She muttered ruefully.

Clementine began to blush.

“. . . you fucked yourself blind?” Andy’s jaw hung slack.

A stout flick on the nose made him flinch, and her her hood flared with indignation as her gaze snapped between her sniping sister and incredulous lover. “It was one time!” She huffed, indignant.

After several seconds of awkward silence, Andy’s quiet voice broke the tense silence. “. . . do you want to try and do it again?”