The Long Pull: Use Your Noodle

Toni eyed the finished dish from a nervous distance. It looked really good. It could have been the picture they put in the menu, outside the fact that it was in a Styrofoam takeout container. After a long car trip and a few minutes spent making the sauce, how was there still steam coming off this? Almost all her delivery goods arrived lukewarm. Was the... sauce really that hot?

She felt her stomach grumble again. The thought of this whole silly situation was certainly making Toni feel feverish.

"Come on. Dig in." Gianna urged, still standing there with her erection out. She seemed to still be catching her breath from her orgasm. Toni sympathized. She'd found it hard to breathe ever since she'd laid eyes on it.

Before taking her first taste, Toni started to circle the island, towards Gianna. "The silverware's over here."

Gianna stepped out of the way, trying to maintain the recommended distance. "I did bring plastic ones if you want."

"No, I'll use a real fork." Toni said, selecting one from the huge pile of identical IKEA-branded forks in her drawer. "I already feel guilty using up all this Styrofoam, eating so much takeout. I know environmentalism is taking a backseat while we're constantly cleaning every flat surface."

"I know lots of people who still use the plastic forks, even when they're eating the takeout at home." Gianna said. "They just don't want to wash anything. And THEN they complain when the knives bend or break when they try to cut through a hot calzone with it."

Toni returned to the other side of her island, holding the fork dramatically over the noodles, the way a Shakesperean actor holds their dagger above the other player they were meant to pretend to stab. This was the point of no return. She took in a breath, and lowered her fork.

"Wait! There's one last thing." Gianna stopped her before the fork touched down. She pulled a wooden pepper mill out of her coat pocket and cranked it with both hands, sprinkling the surface of the dish with black flakes. Toni could not help but noticing how much larger Gianna's previous cylindrical cooking implement was in comparison. Gianna put the pepper mill away and pulled out a small lemon that she rubbed with a short microplane grater.

There were apparently some culinary ingredients that could not be created the way Gianna had just made the sauce. Some additions had to be done the old-fashioned way.

Finally satisfied with her creation, she slid the takeaway box back across the island towards Toni.

Before she thought better of it, before she thought again about what it really was, Toni poked her fork in the center mass of the noodles and spun it around, gathering up some of the noodles like a loosely rewound ball of yarn. The fork felt heavy in her hand, thickly saturated with the white cream. She glanced up to Gianna, who held her balled hands together in front of her, waiting eagerly for her to sample the dish.

With a deep breath, Toni brought the morsel into her mouth, one loose noodle brushing her lip, leaving a fleck of white across it.

Among the warm noodles, there was a welcome flavor that she hadn't experienced in a very long time.

AND it tasted sort of like Alfredo sauce.

Once the first bite was swallowed, Toni immediately went for a second bite.

Gianna gazed at the spectacle, watching as a noodle slapped at the edge of Toni's mouth as she shoved the morsel in, leaving a drop of white running down her lip. That was something Gianna hadn't seen for quite a while.

Toni looked up from her takeout box, seeing Gianna looking down at her hungrily. "Do you..." Toni looked over to the lovely visitor. "want some?"

"I'd love some, actually." Gianna found a fork in the same drawer and rolled up some noodles for herself. She spun around to tuck the mouthful in under her mask. She made a moan very similar to what Toni had just heard when Gianna was pleasuring herself. "Ooh, that's so good. This is one of the best ones, really."

Toni felt her cheeks redden. She didn't think she'd actually do it. "I guess you've... tested the flavors, huh?"

"Oh yeah. We Italians always taste as we cook." Gianna set the fork down. "I know it's a big joke that futa love sucking their own dicks, but I'm not flexible enough to reach. I bet if I could, I would never leave..."

Gianna paused, struck with sudden sadness.

She finished the joke. "I'd never leave the house."

It was a joke she'd said a thousand times. She hadn't had occasion to say it in months, back when staying at home for months was not just ridiculous, but impossible. It was a reminder of how much everything had changed.

"Well, this is really good, so... I'll be sure to visit you when everything opens back up."

Gianna sighed. "I... don't really have a location anymore. I wanted to run my special kind of Italian restaurant where I could cook AND make use of my gifts. I was set to open up... in April. Never got the chance. It probably didn't help that Italy was the face of the outbreak for a little while before it was... you know, everywhere. I've heard idiots out there say that they didn't feel safe eating Chinese takeout because of this. I actually cannot believe anyone would feel comfortable saying something so ignorant."

"I can believe it." Toni rued.

Gianna looked off into space. She picked up her fork, aiming it back towards the dish, and set it back down again. Despite enjoying it, she wasn't very hungry. "I was really counting on those first few months of profits. Maybe it wouldn't be the best time to open anyway. But I lost my lease, I had to sell all the equipment to stave off bankruptcy... I couldn't even get a refund on the helium tank that I rented to blow up the balloons for the grand opening that never happened. Now I'm right back to square one, making food in my little kitchen. But those food-ordering websites take a huge chunk away in fees, so at the end of the day... between making this and bringing it to you, I made about eight dollars."

Gianna looked to Toni, eyes a little misty. "But I'm still so happy you ordered today. You're the first order I've had in weeks. It makes me so happy that someone is willing to take a chance on me."

Toni looked back, a little more intently. "You haven't had an order in weeks?"

Gianna shook her head, brown curls tumbling about.

"What have you been doing?"

"Watching TV by myself."

"You haven't been running deliveries for other restaurants?"

"The delivery isn't the part of the job that I like. I'd rather get a job as a chef, but... now might not be the right time. Besides, why work for the competition?"

Toni looked to her dish. Often, she asked herself what she'd do when this was finally over. Some people couched this question, unhelpfully, as what one would do if it was over tomorrow? It was the sort of trick question posed by unsophisticated guidance counselors; it was really just obfuscating the question of what someone wanted to do right that second.

This woman hadn't left her home in at least a few weeks, and Toni hadn't left her apartment in significantly longer. Maybe she didn't have anything to fear after all.

So... what did Tori want to do?

Toni picked up her takeout box of noodles, about half-eaten. She walked around to the island, where Gianna was keeping a respectable distance. Gianna tightened when Toni entered Gianna's personal space for the first time. Toni tossed the box down in front of Gianna.

"Excuse me..." Toni said in a disapproving tone. "Are you the manager?"

Gianna's eyes jumped about a bit, her eyebrows uneven. "Yes, I suppose that I am. What can I help you with?"

Toni pointed at her half-eaten dish. "There's hardly any sauce on this Alfredo."

Gianna looked down. It looked about as saucy as she had made it. "I'm sorry. I'll..." She wasn't sure what to say. She couldn't take it off her bill. She barely knew how the app worked at all. She couldn't take it back to the kitchen; they were STANDING in the kitchen.

Unsatisfied with Gianna's hesitation. Toni stepped up. "Fine. I'll handle it." She said, taking grasp of Gianna's erection and jerking it off towards the box. Gianna bucked and supported herself with her hands as Toni stood directly behind her, tugging forcefully.

"I've got to do everything around here..." She growled through a smile. "Am I being too rough?"

Gianna grunted.

"I know what you need..." Toni spun them both in place, turning Gianna by her cock until they faced a cabinet, where Toni grabbed a tall yellow cylindrical can of cooking spray. She turned Gianna back around, releasing her extension for a moment to spray it with the contents of the can. Gianna grunted as the spray foamed softly on her skin, neither warm nor cold.

"Oh, come on. It's supposed to be olive oil-flavored." Toni rubbed the spray into Gianna's cock, her hand sliding across the skin effortlessly like a bar of soap. "You Italian babes love olive oil, right?"

Behind her mask, Gianna felt herself flush. She knew an incredible amount of cooking tricks, but this was a new one.

Toni's fist pumped up and down, gliding across her extension with the impromptu lube. During her isolation, Gianna had grown quite accustomed to her own hands, and even some other rubbery orgasmic assistance. But nothing was quite as interesting as getting a handjob from a non-futa. (Futa were obviously all experts at handjobs, to the point where it was boring. If you HAD a futa partner available, do something else!)

Gianna cried out through her mask as Toni pointed her cock down onto her noodles, covering them in a fresh new layer of white.

"There we go..." Toni cooed, spinning back around the island, dragging the takeaway box by a finger to the other side. She squeezed her bicep with her other hand; that repetitive motion took a surprising amount of muscle power, especially when the appendage was so... long.

Toni picked up her fork again, ready to sample the new dish. She looked across at Gianna, who was still hard.

"You're still..." She observed, perhaps pointlessly.

Gianna brought her head up, staring powerfully from over her mask. "I've done that at least four times a day, every single day, for years. When I use those pellets, I could make hundreds of dishes." She started to approach Toni from around the island, whipping a dish towel off a cabinet handle to wipe the lube from herself. "Hundreds in a single. Day."

Toni had trouble returning Gianna's stare. She rubbed her upper arm. "Hundreds, huh? Just that one made my arm tired. You must have biceps like... like... like Popeye."

Toni had her back up against the cold stainless steel of her fridge, knocking a few magnets of previous holiday destinations off. Toni was doubly embarrassed now, recalling too late that Popeye's muscles were in his forearms, not his upper arms.

Gianna stood in front of her, just barely within the recommended six feet of personal space. "Do you think... a little handjob is enough to satisfy me... after months and months without any romantic contact?"

Toni felt her heart pound and nervousness build in her throat. This had been her reaction most times a stranger had gotten too close... even if they had a mask.

But this time... she didn't immediately want the stranger to back away.

"I've heard that Italy is known for their generous... portions."

--

Toni's bedroom was rarely neat. Long ago, she'd clean the other rooms in her apartment before bringing guests over, but the bedroom was off-limits to visitors, anyway. (She made an exception that one time when a guest had a terrible migraine and had to take a nap. She wasn't the type to be unforgivably sloppy. She didn't leave underwear hanging from the ceiling fan like it was the sixties.)

Making her bed properly was one of those things Toni left behind with the added stress of losing all your leisure activities while still having to do your job though a screen and being confined to what amounted to a well-furnished prison cell. Having neat bed linens was one of the many things Toni had learned to live without.

Something else she had learned to live without, longer ago than the start of this crisis... was someone else's gentle touch. As a busy woman in a technological field... men that interested her were very hard to find. The ones that she found interesting... weren't interested in her.

Maybe that was where her problem had arisen... looking for a man.

The covers slid off the corner of the bed, mimicking the occupants. Both were entirely nude, Gianna on top, her head resting on Toni's shoulder. One hand was combed into Toni's hair, one was at the small of her back, holding her mostly still as Gianna thrust herself into Toni.

Toni clutched her partner's torso, her legs bucking out from under her. She had perhaps underestimated what was being asked of her as she was repeatedly pressed into her mattress. Like most diners, her eyes were bigger than her insides... but she still left nothing on her plate, deeply satisfied as Gianna filled her up like a canolli.

When all was done, Gianna stayed atop her, both trying to catch their breath. She rose her heavy head up off Toni's shoulder. Her blue surgical mask was still on her face, but her eyes were filled with relief. She turned her head to one side, to keep from breathing directly on her.

Toni reached up to Gianna's face and pulled her mask down.

She gasped, feeling more unguarded than she had at any point during the previous reverie. She hadn't even worn a condom. (Why bother keeping one handy? It's not like a random customer was going to fuck her.) But Toni was unafraid, pushing herself up and pressing her lips into hers.

Gianna whimpered. This was the most dangerous activity one could partake in, they say. Though maybe they said that because the people who made those lists were too polite to reference coitus. Maybe it would have been safer if they'd used a condom, but raw dogging it just felt so *good*.

Gianna quickly opened her mouth and passed her tongue into Toni's mouth. Sex was great, but no dry spell could ever be long enough to allow her to forget that. This kiss was like the first saltine cracker one might eat after a day of sickness. Suddenly, a boring snack becomes the sweetest ambrosia.

When she finally managed to wrench her mouth free again, she asked Toni, "Are you sure you're not into women?"

Toni closed her lips around Gianna's again. "I never knew lips could be so soft... or cocks so hard..."

More kisses. "You keep saying stuff like that, you'll get me hard again."

"You want seconds?" Toni gently shook her head side to side, rubbing the tip of her nose against Gianna's. "I couldn't possibly. I'm so... full."

Gianna tittered at the soft contact. How quickly in this new world did the nose become something to hide. After they shared some more kisses, Toni felt compelled to confess something. The sort of thing one told a new friend after sharing something so intimate, that might indicate a lifetime commitment.

"I'm... not on the pill."

Gianna let out a sputtering laugh that ended with her giving another kiss. "You really don't know anything about futa, do you?"

"Yeah, I guess we're... quite beyond the whole idea of 'protection,' huh?" Toni touched Gianna's chin with her thumb.

"I... never minded wearing a mask. It hid the gap in my front teeth."

A long kiss, accompanied by an equally long moan. "Historically, women with a diastema were associated with insatiable lust."

"Mmm... is that so?" Gianna said. "Then where's yours?"

"Oh, my lust is very sated."

For one night, the pair of new lovers made out breathlessly until they fell asleep, all the troubles of the world lifted from their shoulders for the moment.

--

Toni hated online meetings. It had all the disadvantages of in-person meetings and conference calls. For whatever reason, you were obliged to be on camera, even though that didn't make a damn bit of difference. Furthermore, since you were always at your desk and always on camera, the online meetings stretched out for hours of pointless drivel as she tried to get her work done.

Maybe the mandatory camera was to enforce the dress code, but Toni didn't care. She wore her beloved gray hooded sweatshirt and would dare anyone to call her out for not wearing a shirt with buttons after being trapped in her apartment for more weeks than a football season.

Maybe. She didn't watch football, but that didn't stop her co-workers complaining about their favorite team's performance. Whatever Tom Brady did to these guys, it must have been heinous.

One box of her online meeting interface was from a phone camera by the only person on site, so their image was wobbling around unsteadily, like it was a window on a boat cutting through a storm. It really was enough to make one seasick, seeing this image spin about while sitting perfectly still.

The image cleared up for a moment, where someone showed a blue cable with a black singe mark on a tight bend.

"Found it!" Said Manny, through his mask. "This one sure looks like the culprit to me."

"Do you have a spare?" Toni asked, from her comfortable office chair in her apartment.

"Of course. When I replace this, maybe we can finish the data migration overnight." Manny put the phone in his flannel breast pocket as he summoned the replacement part.

"Why are you bothering with that mask in there?" Toni asked. "Are you suggesting that we've got dirty data in there?"

Manny retrieved his phone to be sure he transmitted his incredulous stare. "Nobody else is going to get that joke but me."

On Toni's camera, you could see Toni's face and shoulders, the top few shelves of her bookshelf over the right shoulder, and the door over the left. It was a fairly static background with no moving parts, not even a clock ticking away or anything to reflect the changing sun.

This was what startled Toni so much when she saw her door fly open on her webcam.

Toni's head swiveled back so hard, it dragged the rest of her with it. If someone was about to interrupt her, Toni would really like to warn them that they were on camera with her boss and her boss' boss and other random co-workers.

Her office door was closed.

She looked back. On the video, her door was open, standing in stark contrast to reality.

"Y'allright?" Asked her boss, across his tented fingers, quite evidently not doing much work himself.

Toni tried to slow her startled breathing. "Yeah, the wind must've blew the door open."

She checked the dropdown menus of the meeting software and found that someone had turned on a custom background, the sort that could automatically place the . The folder where such things were kept was filled with hundreds of duplicates of the same 60-second video of the view from her webcam with nobody at the desk. The last video in the folder showed the door flying open as she had just seen.

Toni turned off the animated background. Her door magically appeared shut as the video reconciled itself with reality. None of her coworkers noticed the discrepancy, and thus she continued her work.

--

At 4:30, it was close enough to quitting time that Toni decided to start the data migration. She would check on its progress periodically through the rest of the night to make sure there were no major issues. She left her computer on, stepped out of her office (which was also her bedroom, her bed tastefully cropped out of her webcam's view) and went to her living room.

Gianna was on Toni's couch, sipping from a bottle while lazily watching television... naked. Her hair was tied up into a curly ponytail, her only scrap of clothing.

"When did you mess with my computer?" Toni asked.

Gianna hummed as she finished a gulp of root beer. "Did that finally go off? I set that up like three days ago when you were asleep."

"If that was a prank, it wasn't a very good one." Toni said. "It scared me for a second, and that was it."