Chapter 5: Suffering from too much success

Arthur stared at Iris with what could only be described as panic.

Not because asking for the random girl’s number had gone wrong. That would have been a relief. A clean rejection, and he could’ve returned to the table with his tail between his legs and let Iris say whatever she wanted.

Instead, it had gone too well.

The girl, whose name he’d learned roughly four minutes in, was Rachel. She hadn’t given him her number. Instead, she’d told him to sit down.

And now she was talking. And talking. And talking.

Arthur sat rigidly across from her, nodding at what he hoped were appropriate intervals, catching maybe every third word.

Rachel spoke fast, but the real hell was called Fleabag. Arthur had never heard of this series before, but he’d noticed her keychain, a small acrylic charm clipped to her bag that read "FLEABAG" in blocky white letters above a cartoon of a woman with dark hair and a fox sitting on her shoulder.

He’d glanced at it as soon as he sat with her, and unsure of what to say, he had the brilliant idea to pretend he knew that show. He was hoping it would be just an initial topic, so he could quickly get her number.

Instead, he had made her go on a rampage. She was also getting quite touchy, something he had no idea how to deal with.

Of course, he wasn’t dumb enough not to recognize the signs. She was into him. In fact, Arthur felt that Rachel was so drunk and frustrated that, if he waited any longer, she might actually just kiss him.

The problem was that he wasn’t really interested in her. He didn’t even know the girl, and the whole situation didn’t feel right to him in the slightest.

Luckily, Iris noted his predicament, and after having some fun watching, she moved in. After all, she couldn’t allow her own suggestion to turn into a problem.

Arthur felt her arrival before he saw her. A warm weight pressed against his shoulder, then he felt two arms wrapping around his neck from behind.

"There you are," Iris murmured against his hair, her voice a honeyed purr. "I’ve been looking all over for you."

Rachel stopped mid-sentence.

Arthur felt his entire body turn to stone. Iris’s arms stayed locked around his neck, her softness enveloping him.

"I’m so sorry to interrupt," Iris continued, smiling at Rachel with the kind of sweetness that had teeth behind it. "But I’m going to have to steal him back. I hope you don’t mind."

Rachel blinked. Her gaze traveled from Iris’s face, to Arthur’s surprised look, then to the very obvious intimate way Iris was touching him.

The poor woman’s expression cycled through surprise, confusion, and a flicker of irritation.

"Okay... and you are?" Rachel asked, her voice flat.

Iris tilted her head, as if considering the question. Then she smiled, feeling genuinely happy, as she let go of Arthur.

"I’m so happy you even consider me a rival, sweetheart," she said, and meant it, her ego taking a small boost.

Rachel’s eyes narrowed. "Are you his girlfriend, or...."

"Here." Iris held up her left hand. On her ring finger sat a fake wedding ring she carried in her purse for exactly this kind of situation, one she’d bought years ago when she believed she had met the right man...

Unfortunately, he was not.

"I’m a thirty-eight-year-old teacher, I’m much older than the two of you, so us having anything would be impossible," Iris smiled, still enjoying the fact Rachel had considered she could be dating Arthur. "Actually, he’s my nephew."

She said it so casually that even Arthur believed for a second.

"Your... nephew?"

"Mm-hm," Iris said and staggered against Arthur’s shoulder. The woman had clearly drunk too much, but this would come in handy. "I’m a mess tonight, sweetie. As you can see, I’ve drunk too much."

She gestured down at herself with a grand, wobbly sweep of her hand, and Arthur shifted his gaze to her, seeing what he’d been trying not to look at all evening.

Her blazer had come undone at some point. Several buttons on her blouse had surrendered in the line of duty, and the result was a deep cleavage.

Her hair, usually impeccable, had gone loose and wild. Her makeup was slightly smudged at the corners of her eyes.

She looked, to any reasonable observer, like a woman who’d had three glasses of wine too many and was being helped home by a very tall, very patient relative.

"He came to pick me up," Iris continued, leaning heavier into Arthur’s side. "Because I can’t drive like this, obviously. And he needs to get home and sleep, he has a very important interview tomorrow morning. Don’t you, Arthur?"

"I... yes. Yes, I do," Arthur said, because there was nothing else to say.

Rachel looked at Iris. Looked at Arthur. And finally let out a sigh, accepting reality, with a silly smile.

"Right," Rachel said. She pulled out her phone, tapped something quickly, and held it out to Arthur. "Here. My number. Text me sometime."

Arthur needed a full second to understand what was happening, his brain working slowly. "Thanks. I—sure."

Rachel gave Iris one last look, gathered her bag, and headed to pay her bill, but Iris told her not to worry. The woman had only asked for a few drinks.

"I see you are having a rough night, let this old lady cover for you," Iris said.

Rachel hesitated, but finally accepted, as her finances would do much better without the unnecessary spending. And soon, the woman left.

Iris watched her go. The moment Rachel was out of earshot, she turned, grabbed Arthur by the collar, and pulled him down into a hug that buried his face in her deep cleavage.

"I told you you’d be popular, handsome," she whispered against his ear. "Now do you believe me?"

"You’re insane," he muttered.

"You’re welcome." The teacher looked up at him with red cheeks and a grin that was half-drunk, half-triumphant.

She paid for everything, then the duo stumbled out of the place. Iris was clearly too drunk, especially for a woman in high heels.

At the first step, she nearly stumbled forward. Arthur reacted on instinct, his hand shooting out faster than thought and catching her before she hit the ground.

However, his hand accidentally closed around the heavy, soft curve of her tit, his fingers sinking in as if the flesh itself had drawn them there.

The sheer size and weight of it felt so irresistible that he gripped it hard and possessively for a full heartbeat. The soft, dense mass filled his palm completely, warm and yielding, her thick nipple already pressing into the center of his hand through her clothes.

She had huge and heavy tits, the kind of full boobs that spilled over his fingers no matter how he tried to hold them.

After a single second that felt much longer, Arthur forced himself to let go of these heavenly huge tits, and simply helped her straighten up, his hands shifting to her shoulder, to make sure she wouldn’t fall.

"Good catch, stud," she said with a smile, not feeling embarrassed at all. Actually, she didn’t even register that he had touched her boobs. "Now, do you want to come to my house?"

"What?" Arthur gasped and blushed.

Iris smiled smugly. "You are such a pervert... But you are getting the wrong idea. I just wanted to continue drinking with you."

"But..."

"Come on, you are not going to leave a poor drunk lady like me alone, will you? Please, take good care of me, stud." She said this with a teasing smile, her tits coming dangerously close to spilling out of her clothes, as another button had been undone at some point amidst everything.