Have a shower

Easing the bedroom door open you tiptoe across the hall and into the bathroom. Inside you see your discarded clothes from yesterday, still strewn about the room where you left them to get in the shower with Miranda. Picking them up you're relieved to find they're dry, they're the only clothes you brought and you doubt you could squeeze into any of Sarahs. Putting your clothes aside for now you step into the shower and draw the curtain behind you.

You take a second to come to grips with how Sarahs shower works before turning it on, a stream of cool water washing over you and cleansing you of the fluids and sins of last night. As the water slowly warms you wash your body, paying special attention to your crotch. Your balls especially feel sensitive, though that's no surprise considering you lost track of how many times you came with Miranda. Once you're satisfied your body is clean you dunk your head under the showers flow, the shock driving the cobwebs from your mind and allowing you to think clearly for the first time since Miranda bared her breasts for Tom.

"Tom was actually possessed!" You think, only realizing the weight of that sentence now. "His body was taken over by an actual demon, or spirit, or something." If you hadn't seen it for yourself you wouldn't have believed it. While the water flows over your body you try to consider the ramifications of this, your first thought being that it's been way too long since you last went to church. Your mental metaphysical grappling is interrupted when you hear the sound of a feminine moan.

Pulling your head from the showers stream you listen for a moment, your ears filling with Sarahs melodic moans, a sound you are happily quite familiar with by now. It seems that Miranda is giving her the same morning treatment that she gave you. Listening to your buxom host gasp in pleasure you consider cutting your shower short and joining them but you're still too worn out.

Instead you return your attention to the shower and try to recapture your last train of thought. "Something about Tom and ghosts or something? Oh, that's right, you were thinking about how you had been given the answer of one of life's big questions, right up there with 'do aliens exist?'." And you'd already gotten sidetracked by thoughts of sex. Typical. Chastising yourself for your lack of focus you finish up your shower, before drying yourself with Sarahs fluffy towels and slipping back into your clothing from last night.

With the shower off you listen again, this time you sadly don't hear any gasping or moaning indicating ongoing fun you could join in. Walking quietly back to the bedroom you peek your head round the door to see a single female form lay in bed, the brown hair giving away that it's Miranda even though you can't see her face. Leaving her to her beauty sleep you creep away, along the hall and then down the stairs.

As you reach the bottom of the staircase you hear sounds of clinking and clattering coming from the kitchen. The sounds grow louder as you approach the kitchen door, and when you open it you're greeted by the sight of Sarah standing at the sink, framed by sunlight streaming in the open window. Her long red hair cascades down her back over a short blue crop top. Her ass looks perfect in a pair of scandalously small booty shorts, her sweet cheeks almost hanging entirely out the bottom. Seeing this you're overcome with an irresistible urge.

Quietly you steal towards Sarah until you're right behind her. You quickly grab a handful of Sarahs ass and whisper in her ear "Good morning." Sarah had tensed up as you'd copped a feel of her ass but she relaxed when she heard your voice.

"Good morning." She replied sweetly, looking up at you over her shoulder. "I thought you were someone else for a second."

"Who? Miranda?" You laugh, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Well, with the way she's been acting this morning it wouldn't be a total shock. But I was talking about Tom." Sarah answered, still washing dishes.

"He's here?" You ask, your mood immediately souring at the prospect of having to see that arrogant asshole and be reminded of what his body did with Miranda last night.

"Still here. He never left." Sarah explains. "Go look in the front room."

Slightly puzzled you leave the kitchen, head back down the hallway and creak open the living room door just enough to poke your head in. Sure enough, there's Tom still where you left him, motionless in the armchair. For a second you worry that he's dead but then he snores and you realize he's just sleeping deeply. The scrap of cloth that Miranda draped over his crotch for 'modesty' stirs slightly as he sleeps. "He's probably dreaming about what I had for real last night." You think smugly, half tempted to wake him up just to gloat. Instead you let sleeping dogs lie and return to the kitchen.

Sarah had finished with last nights dishes and put some bread in the toaster. "Want some?" She asks and you nod. She puts another two slices into the toaster before sitting at the table and pouring herself a glass of juice. You're about to sit down and join her but she stops you. "Can you go check on Miranda, ask her if she wants any breakfast."

"Alright." You reply, going out through the kitchen door to go find Miranda.