Anne's divorce lawyer, Ulva Lupino

Anne leans against the frame of the bathroom door, having watched you pump Sarabeth's pulsing pregnant pussy full of spunk.

"Well, THAT was a good show, Joe," Anne says. "Don't you think, Ms. Lupino?" she asks the last woman in your little mercy fuck party.

You look up from your bathroom floor where you and Sarabeth are lying like a pair of deflated pool toys streaked with jizz.

Another woman looks down from high in the doorframe, about Anne's height, maybe taller. Ms. Lupino has black hair in a short perm. She's wearing shiny black pumps with gold mock buckles, gray silk stockings, and a gray chalk-stripe skirt-suit. She has a fancy looking leather briefcase in one hand.

"Call me Ulva, please," she says. "May I call you Joe?"

Ulva has a face ready for drama, with bold red lipstick, heavy dark brows, and a beaky nose. She looks like ten million dollars of lawsuit waiting to fall on you like a building, and she has an Amazon's broad-shouldered build pumped up at an executive gym. She's the kind of gal the Pickup Artists' Guide tells you you have two choices with: get her drunk for a one-off, or run the hell away.

But she's smiling, so you know what to do. Smile back.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," you say, clearing your throat. "Ulva." She doesn't look like she literally eats her vanquished foes.

"Well, don't you just look like a big slice of cake, Joe," she says, sliding the tip of her tongue across her lips. Ulva looks round at Anne. "Do you want me to draft you up a pre-nup for Joe as well as divorce papers for John?" she asks.

Anne laughs out loud. "Fuck no, Ulva!" But then she looks back at you. "Fuck. Not yet."

You give Sarabeth a kiss on the cheek before you get up. She purrs, or gurgles, or some kind of happy sound. Your own Mr. Happy is about half-mast, and goopy with yours and Sarabeth's juices.

"Guess I better shower up," you say. "Sarabeth, you want a wash-up, I mean, ladies first, right?"

Sarabeth laughs, low and soft. "No, Joe," she says. "Would you help me land somewhere softer? I have another cover-up sheet, just spread it out on the carpet and I'll call it good."

"Ha, Sarabeth," Anne says. "You'll be up for a second ride, the way you've been talking."

There's enough clear room on your bedroom carpet to lay Sarabeth down and tuck her into one of her massage sheets. "That was just what I needed, Joe," she says. "What a prize, Anne. How long have you been fucking him?"

"Haven't," Anne said. "I've been working down my old vices, but they're coming back all topsy turvy."

Sarabeth mumbles and sighs. "I got the first ride," she says. "So good."

So, well, shower and all. Back to the bathroom.

"Would you like to help me, ma'am, ah, Ulva?" you say. With a glance at Anne. "Or, ah, Ms. Campion."

"Anne," she says. "If it's going to be Sarabeth and Ulva, you have to call me Anne. Maybe I'm your boss, but Ms. Campion, Joe's supervisor, is not only **** of power, it dries me right up. Call me Anne. Sing me a fucking song. Make me wet, Joe," she says.

"We know you get off on watching, Anne," Ulva says. "Watch Joe fuck me till your motor's running good and hard." Ulva pulls up the hem of her skirt-suit. No panties above those gartered silk stockings. Side shave on her big fat pussy lips. Dark bush on her mound, trimmed a little, like for a leotard or a one-piece swimsuit.

Your cock gives a twitch of approval.

Since you've just cum, you can't fuck Ulva or Anne right away. But any other move or "Let the girls..." will work. Roll +HOT(+2) (+2 Hot, +1 Forward, -1 two girls) to have them join you in the shower.

Roll 2d6 + 2 = 10 + 2, = 12, they're more than willing, take +1 Forward on your next roll.

Anne strips off and gets the shower set up for a comfortable temperature. Ulva looks you up and down, and the sheer power of her laser-beam eyes raises your cock up, pulsing and throbbing for a second stand.

"Your boy's got his second wind, Anne," Ulva says. "I better peel off. Be right back."

Ulva clicks out of your bathroom on her low-heeled pumps. Anything really high and she'd be bumping doorframes, so a two-inch heel is a good compromise between a boost to her intimidating height and a modest enough heel so as not to bump her head on doorframes and light fixtures.

You sigh as Anne grasps your cock.

"Is this really the first time I've given you a handy, Joe?" she says, stroking gently up and down.

"Yeah," you say. "Like you said, no juice in picking on me. You're a good...oh fuck, that feels so good."

"I suppose we've seen each other enough in the showers at closing time, I was just daydreaming," Anne says. "You feel just like I imagined. A big stick of hot meat. Let's soap you up."

While Anne is soaping you with both hands up front, one up and down your shaft, another cupping and squeezing your balls, Ulva steps in behind you, gets a handful of soap, and starts lathering between your butt cheeks. She laughs when her soapy fingers tickle your asshole and make you shiver.

"That feel good, Joe?" Ulva asks.

There's no good answer for that on a, ah, first date, so you just sigh.

"I think he's a closet case, Anne," Ulva says.

Ulva's tits feel good against your back.

"Now you're dreaming, Ulva," Anne says. "This is a Grade A American Boy, with The Pickup Artists' Guide in his locker at work. Bookmarked and corners folded down. He's prepped, ready, and armed for cunt."

You feel unsteady. Ms. Campion knows?

Anne squeezes your cock. Ahhh.

"Haha, don't worry," Anne says. "You're a sweetheart, Joe. You may swing this prick like you're Priapus' gift to womankind, but for a self-centered young man, I've never seen any disrespect, negging, or misogyny out of you. Your cause is just, and your reward is three cunts gagging for a fuck."

"Now who's negging?" Ulva says.

"You're a lawyer, you see negging everywhere," Anne says.

"I plead professional standards," Ulva says.

Little by little, there's less talk, more heavy breathing and skin on skin. Anne and Ulva turn you about, and Ulva guides your head in one hand into a long, deep kiss while her other hand seeks and claims your hard cock. Anne holds you around your hips, careful to avoid pressing on the tender spot from Karen Yoshida's footprint leaving a purple-red bruise above your heart.

"The water's getting cold, let's take this to the bedroom," Anne says.

Ulva laughs. "Let's carry him to the bedroom," she says. "There's a big sheet all laid out on his bed."

"No," Anne replies. "Wet tiles."

"Spoilsport," Ulva says.

"Do you want to explain how we dropped him and broke him in pieces?" Anne says.

"I'll walk, really I will," you protest.

Anne and Ulva laugh heartily.

Roll +HARD(+2) (+2 Hard, +1 Forward, -1 two girls) using FUCK HER on Anne and Ulva.