You came with flowers and chocolates, hoping to impress Judy from the very outset of what you counted as being your 19th date. You knocked, but she did not answer. You rang the doorbell, but received no reply. As you waited however, you began to notice sounds coming from inside. Voices. Moans. Arguing. The telltale sounds of struggle. You reached down, and to your surprise the door handle was not locked.
You turned the knob and entered, worried that you might find robbers inside, or something far worse. But as you pushed the door aside, and cleared your view, you saw only this. Two women, and your sweet Judy, fighting on her single-room loft bed. The pair of women, nearly nude, were trying desperately to pull Judy’s panties off, and she while trying just as hard to keep them on, was motioning with her free hand for you to leave, while yelling at you to do the same.
You did as she wanted, exiting the loft, but not before leaving your roses and chocolates on her entrance table.
You would be hurt. Heartbroken, even. If you were not so interested and confused. The whole image, and affair seemed conflicting. What was happening to Judy there on that bed? Why would she be fighting another woman naked, let alone two of them by herself? Why would she not want help? What were they fighting over?
Those questions drove you mad for one day, and then two, that is until your cell phone rang, and Judy’s disappointed voice came through the receiver. She invited you to a lunch date, to which you agreed quickly, not only overjoyed to hear from and see her again, but also beyond ready to hear an explanation of what you had walked in on. After all it was a sight that had turned you on for every day since you saw it – making it nearly impossible for you to walk or sleep, let alone work and move on with your life.
To your dismay or perhaps excitement, when Judy arrived , she had not come alone. In fact, she brought the two women you had seen her wrestling with, each of whom sat silently on either side of you and Judy at the square table of the cafe, as if waiting for her to reveal their identity before they spoke. A revelation that came before hello or hug – order or appetizer.
“John, I want to explain. I want to tell you how we … how /I/ got us here – into this situation. I want to give you details and descriptions – to let you know how much I care for you, and how I would never have agreed to this if…. If….” As Judy began to lose herself in a clear sadness, and distracted spiral of regret, you reached your hand across the table and took hers.
“What, Judy? What has you so shaken? Is it these ladies? Want me to make them leave?” As the question was asked, the two women looked at Judy sternly, as if to remind her of what she had come to do.
“John. These are … my step-sisters. I know this is going to sound weird, maybe eve gross, but when we were kids, we made a promise to always share with each other. And we have always kept that promise, except for you. When I met you, I didn’t want to share…. And so I didn’t tell them. Not about you, or us. But they found out.” Throughout her explanation, her voice shook, and her eyes remained firmly affixed to the table cloth, eyes averted out of shame.
“What!? Babe, that’s crazy! You don’t shar….” You tried to interject, feeling as if it was the only thing you could do, given how the girl you cared for seemed so devastated.
“No, John. When they found out, I challenged them. To a battle. A sexfight. Which is what you walked in on. But I lost. And now….” She paused, not yet ready to say the words.
“Now what, Judy?” You asked, as your hand still sat atop hers in the center of the table.”
“Now I have to share you. Now you are their’s too.” As she said it – as you heard it – the two step-sisters reached out with their right hands, placing them atop yours and Judy’s, and with their left hands, reached under the table and in unison, grabbed onto and held each a handful of your cock.
You were stunned. Shocked. Speechless. Your rod having grown hard in their grasp in a near instant. But before you could say or do anything, the waiter appeared next to the table, glowing with a bubbly personality, and a southern drawl that did nothing to distract any of you four, despite its ridiculousness.
“Hey, what can I get y’all to drink? Got some sweet tea just brewed up. Might like it.”