33 Forks Lesbian Story

Tension

Chapter 4: Tension 2:00PM 2:00PM 2:00PM

Jordan woke from a restless sleep. She stretched and sighed as she began her "morning" routine. As she moved through the apartment, she could tell it would be a tough day for her. She extended herself mentally yesterday and she knew that there would be consequences, mainly in the form of a dull, relentless headache and little to no control over her "mind-reading."

"I can do this, right, Bob?" she called out to her roommate, mumbling through her toothbrush. She continued the one-sided conversation, "I'm so glad you agree." Jordan looked into the mirror after her spit and rinse and said, "33."

Jordan rolled her eyes at herself. "Well that didn't take long." Shaking her head with agitation and embarrassment, she laid out a quick recap for Bob's benefit and asked the blue and red fish, "So now what? Don't steer me wrong here, big guy, I think this one is different. Nothing? Really?! Well, shit."

On the way into work, Jordan continued to quietly reflect on "33" and tried her best to block out unwanted "tastes." It took her a long time to master the art of a semi-silent mind when there are "flavors" all around you. It helped that the rhythm of the train was comforting and she could think about all those questions running through her mind.

Jordan was trying her best to take the "high road" as she considered 33, but her internal banter was conflicted. She found that both curiosity and desire saturated her thoughts. Her internal conversation consumed her trip in.

"What's her name?"

"I'll find out soon, once the review is written. I can be patient, I hope."

"How did she make me 'Blank?' Is that good or bad?"

"It's different. Different is good right? Or no, maybe bad."

"Is she single? She's definitely interested, right?"

"Oh yeah definitely, I think. Definitely eating with her sister, that much is obvious. Interested? Ugh, too flavors too muddled."

"How can I get her interested? Could I cook her a meal that would knock the pants off her?"

"Play to your strengths. Foooood. Hmmmmm, pants off. Metaphorically, right?"

"Well, not necessarily. What does she look like underneath her clothes? What does her skin smell like? What does it actually taste like?"

"Okay, okay, slow down."

"Will I be able to 'taste' her or will she keep messing with my palate? First none, then all, fuck that's frustrating."

"Yup maybe you should figure that part out first."

"I bet her lips are so soft."

Jordan started from her daydream-like internal conversation. She spoke softly to no one but herself, "Wait. I can't touch this woman, it will kill me. Fuck me." She smirked at the irony of her own words. "Well, I guess maybe not." As she continued to contemplate 33, and it wasn't long before Jordan realized that she was in serious trouble.
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Jordan stepped through the back entrance of 800 still moderately preoccupied with thoughts of 33. She was relieved to be greeted by Charlie, smiling, genuine, predictable. "Hey! Happy Sunday! End of the work week!"

"Yup, I have a killer headache. I just want to make it to my day off and sleep until my fish wakes me up." Jordan kept moving hoping to hunker down and push through her shift.

Charlie nodded and gave her an "I got it" look, smiling and humming as he turned back to his prep work. For a flash of a moment Jordan tasted disappointment, like a flat dish that should have popped with flavors and textures. Then, Charlie's emotions refocused on the task at hand.