Summer looked up from the counter as the elevator door opened and three zombies stumbled out, their eyes glazed over and lifeless, their limbs stiff and unmoving. "Damn, you guys look like shit. What the hell happened?"
"I don't wanna talk about it," Megan muttered as she walked right past the kitchen and into the living room, where she collapsed face down onto the couch.
"It turns out we went viral," Patty muttered as she leaned against the kitchen island, using it for support, as she reached down and peeled off her shoes, "There was a literal line out the door."
"And you managed just the three of you?" Summer asked with an impressed look.
"No, Ramon hired some extra help, thankfully," Tricia groaned as she reached into the fridge and came out with a bottle of wine, "But still we were absolutely swamped. I don't think I can deal with another night like that."
"Looks like I chose a good day to get fucked in the ass," Summer muttered as she took in the state of her friends, "Do you think tomorrow will be just as bad?"
"Hopefully not," Ramon replied as he walked into the kitchen, "Now that we're no longer just a local restaurant, I think it's time we start taking reservations until we're more equipped to handle that kind of traffic. I just put out a notice on our social page, so thank you for that, Tricia."
"Hmmm, you're welcome," Tricia hummed as she opened the bottle of wine and was quick to pour herself a glass, "Anyone else want a nightcap?"
""Yes!""
--[Day 39 Report]--
Simlife
Revenue: +$325,586
Cost: -$210,400
Profit: $107,768
Modifiers: Fortune III [+15%], Satisfaction [0%]
Income: +$121,095
Total: $156178
'Not bad all in all, but not fantastic for all the work that went into tonight,' I thought as the hot cascaded over my body, working overtime to melt the stress out of my body, 'Even after going overtime, we couldn't seat a majority of the people who lined up for the restaurant…which is mostly my fault. Right now, we only have the capacity to seat 56 people, while the restaurant can fit 100. Should have bought more furniture, but that would definitely have left us overwhelmed even with the temp help. The reservations will ensure we seat only what we can handle, at the expense of overall volume and traffic. Which is fine until I can upgrade the restaurant again.'
[Property: Ramon's Grill]
Type: Commercial [Restaurant]
Tier II: Upgrade cost [$500,000]
Maintenance: $25,725
Max Capacity: 100
Current Capacity: 56
'500,000 isn't that out of reach; saving up for a couple of days shouldn't be an issue, but I might want to hold off on that in favor of my other projects, mainly the farm and making sure that I completely max out all the appliance slots I have and the seating.'
[Furniture (+) 56/100 Seats]
Fuax Leather Boothx4
Small Wooden Dining Tables x5
Dark Oak Longtablex1
Dark Oak Round Tablex5
[Appliances (+) 4/10]
|Hearthstone Grill I|
+10% to cooking speed
+15% quality of all grilled recipes
| P-O-S Terminal|
+15% to service speed
|Food Processor|
+5% to Cooking Speed
|Kegorator|
+30% quality to all poured drinks
'I'll need to go through and tally all my bonuses again, at some point, but first I should wait for the first harvest at the end of the week otherwise, I'll just have to recalibrate everything again.'
With a final sigh, I managed to turn off the shower and almost immediately missed the therapeutic heat. Stepping out of the shower, I was greeted with a series of appreciative whistles as I walked over to the towel rack.
"You know, for some reason I feel like we should be adding ham to the menu," Summer catcalled, earning a round of laughter from the girls as they all lounged in the bath with their half-empty wine glasses resting along the edge.
"Very funny, girls," I muttered as I wrapped a towel around my waist.
"Oh, don't be a prude, come in and join us, promise we don't bite," Megan propositioned as she pushed out her chest enticingly.
"Well now I know that's a bald-faced lie." I objected just as a phone started ringing from the bedroom. "Sorry, girls, looks like I've got a call to take."
"Just know you got lucky this time," Tricia said threateningly as she walked me down with her eyes as I moved towards the bathroom door.
"I'll make sure to remember that," I called back just before I managed to shut the door behind me.
Walking over to the bedside table, I turned my phone over and glanced at the number, only to be mildly surprised by the caller, 'Didn't expect her to last this long, I almost thought she had managed to escape it.'
Holding the phone up to my ear, I answered the call, "Hello Priscilla, it's been a minute."
"Well, you haven't called me ever since you arranged the details for the yacht," Priscilla replied, and I could practically hear her jaw clench in frustration, "Did I do something to upset you?"
"Oh, nothing of the sort," I assured her as I took a seat on the edge of the bed, "I just didn't know you would miss me that much."
"I-I don't," Priscilla insisted, though it sounded like she wasn't even convinced herself, "I just was curious as to why you haven't called or tried anything else."
"Hmmm, pent up are we?" I asked with a mischievous smile, "Tell me how many times have you played with yourself since our little call last week."
"W-what would possibly make you think that I-"
"Priscilla," I interrupted her with an admonishing tone.
The pent-up housewife hesitated for a second before her shameful admission, "F-four, b-but it doesn't feel like it did when we were on the phone. I can't help myself, or think straight. I can barely get through the day, I'm going crazy."
I grinned, though before I could respond, my phone buzzed, as I received a message and I was only a little surprised to see that it was from Pacifica.
[I can hear you talking to the old hag in the other room, so I thought I should remind you about the real prize in this house ;)]
The message was followed up by a picture of Pacifica posing in front of a mirror, her chest pressed against the ground, and her ass hoisted high into the air, showing off the slender curve of her back and hips that flared out into a perfect bubble butt.
[I know how much you like my ass. It's nice and perky, nothing like that flabby wagon my mother likes to show off ]
Shaking my head at Pacifica's antics, I realized that I might have taken my hands off approach a bit too far, 'If I leave them alone any longer, it won't be long before they start trying to track me down.'
"R-ramon, hello?! Why aren't you talking!?"
Priscilla's panicked voice snapped me out of my thoughts, though I was quick to recover, "I was just wondering what I should make you do next, you sure did enjoy those beads I made you pull out, but those won't prepare you to handle what I have waiting for you. I'm thinking about getting you on a training regimen, to work on your…flexibility."
"I-I don't know if that is appropriate," Priscilla stammered nervously, but Ramon could hear the excited breathiness of her voice.
"Surely we're past the point of you trying to deny that you enjoy these little trysts of ours," Ramon muttered, clearly not amused, "And while I'm normally in the mood for a little push and give, I've had a rather long day so I'm going to cut to the chase. I'm going to send you some toys, and every day I'm going to text you at random. At that point, you have five minutes to send a video of you taking out that day's toy to show that you're sticking with your training. Fail me, and I'll have to enact some harsher methods to motivate you. Am I understood?"
Priscila was silent for a moment before she let out a shaky reply, "Y-yes, I understand."
"Good, I can't wait to see how you handle what I have in store for you." I said with a note of finality before promptly hanging up, 'Now to deal with the brat.'
[Maybe, but with age comes experience, something you sorely lack]
[I could learn, if you would bother to do more than text me and have me send you pictures]
[I'm not interested in fooling around with some sheltered, inexperienced woman]
[Well, how am I supposed to learn if I don't have anyone to practice with?]
[They do make toys, you know, maybe send a video of your practicing on some and if I'm impressed, you might get the real thing]