Time For A Change

Betty watches from their silk sheets as Claudia zips her skirt, ranting about Ted from accounting again. Same complaints every morning—figures drone on too long, Sophie undercuts her at meetings, some new intern keeps miss-stepping. Betty’s jaw tightens. She knows Claudia needs to let that power loosen for once. She pushes the duvet aside, breasts bare, and walks over bare feet on cool wood. Claudia is still talking when Betty drops to her knees. She grabs the edge of Claudia’s pencil skirt and drags the zipper down without asking. Claudia finally stops. Silence fills the room. Betty lifts the skirt over Claudia’s hips, leaves it bunched at her waist. Plain black thong. She hooks the crotch and tugs the fabric straight down in one smooth pull. Claudia steps out on instinct, already wet. Betty presses two fingers inside without preamble, slow and steady until Claudia’s mouth falls open. The corner of her lip twitches—an almost smile. Claudia grips the dresser for balance, head tipping back while Betty curls her knuckles and finds the right spot. Betty works her carefully but deliberately, no showboating, just the singleminded care a woman who loves another knows by heart. One of Claudia’s heels skids against the floor. Betty smiles, kisses the inside of her thigh, and keeps going—sliding in, easing out—until Claudia shudders, thighs shaking, breath catching hard enough to stop the tirade dead in its tracks.