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[sub][b][color=3fbd8e]Location:[/color] The Airport -> Helmsley Estate[/b]
[b][color=3fbd8e]Interacting With:[/color] | [b][color=b57f13]Boy Toy[/color][/b] [@Universorum] | [/b][/sub][/center]

Becca thanked God every time she flew that she didn’t have to fly coach. There were certain things in life that you really can’t take for granted, lest Karma decide that they’ve had it with you, and send you straight to rock bottom. A private jet was one of those things. From what Becca had seen on TV, coach was a hellscape specifically designed to torture the good citizens of America. She would have none of it. And so, Becca’s return to California was in the Helmsley’s private jet, a palace in the sky, a home away from home for Becca. But now, she was ready to return to her actual home.

Becca had been in Sweden for some time now with her family, and as beautiful as the Swedish countryside was, she had grown bored. So, she’d decided to return home. From what she’d read on the Weekend Warrior, she was needed. Her boys had gone and got themselves into a veritable orgy of shit. [color=bd3f6e][i]I leave Henry alone for not even two months, and he gets himself accused of rape. Can’t go anywhere,[/i][/color] Becca thought, scowling at the situation. 

Long legs carried Becca across the tarmac and into a limo, where her personal assistant, James, was seated. [b]”Ms. Helmsley, a pleasure to see you again. How was your trip?”[/b] James asked, his eyes finding hers in the rearview mirror. Becca grinned. [color=bd3f6e][b]”It was wonderful James. Uneventful though, I’m excited to be home. Thank you again for sending me that article, it’s nice to know that someone around here knows how to communicate,”[/b][/color] Becca replied, rolling her eyes as she thought of Henry and his apparent inability to text her to say, [i]“Hey, I’m being accused of rape!”[/i]

Obviously, the party had gone to shit. Becca was aware of that much from Snapchat the night of, but the WW’s article had really made a shit situation, shittier. Shit. The boys had had one job, one job. Keep Hailey and her Bitch Brigade out. And what did they do? Let ‘em in the front fucking door apparently. She sighed and shook her head. [color=bd3f6e][i]Boys[/i][/color]

James pulled the limo up to the front door of the Helmsley’s massive estate, a palace of epic proportion, before coming around and helping Becca out. She smiled her thanks before strutting inside, breathing in the fresh smell that reminded her of home. Her room was as she’d left it, clean and orderly, her bed freshly made and her desk cleaned off. She was content.

Of course, the orderly nature of her room could not keep her distracted for too long. She’d been in Sweden for far too long, and a family vacation meant that her sexual adventures had been curtailed for far too long. In other words, Becca needed to get laid. And she needed to know what the hell was going on. So, she found the person who could do both.

[quote][center][b]To: [color=b57f13]Boy Toy[/color][/b]
[color=bd3f6e][b]You up?[/b][/color][/center][/quote]