It's one of Maria's friends

A man!? No, definitely not a man. It's a petite, slim woman, mid-20s, with a masculine cut to her black hair. She has big, brown eyes, long lashes, and full lips quirked into a little smile as you scramble to cover up beneath the blanket. The girl looks glam, with her sausage casing gray leggings, fur-trimmed boots, and drooping-collar white sweater that is tight enough to be revealing. She also looks slightly familiar.

Maria scrambles up on the bed next to you, perhaps assuming it's her husband. When she sees the woman standing in the doorway the tension fades and she grins.

"Hi, Veronica," she says.

"Don't stop what you're doing on my account," Veronica prowls over to the bed, resting one knee on the edge as she looks at you. "And who is your plaything?"

"That's Joy," says Maria. "She's my neighbor."

You finally realize where you know Veronica from. She's the haughty clerk at The Couture Club, one of the hippest shops in town. You can rarely afford to buy, but you and your friends love to browse.

"Ah," Veronica climbs onto the bed, crawling over to you and Maria, insinuating herself between you. "Neighbor girls are the sweetest. I'm just bummed I couldn't be your first, Maria."

"Veronica is a huge dyke," says Maria. "And I mean that with all love."

Veronica seems to realize you have the blanket pulled up to your chin. She reaches over, stroking your cheek, peering deeply into your eyes, and there's such gentle authority there that you let her peel the blanket away from your hands. She looks down as she exposes your breasts, jeweled with sweat, and lower, revealing your toned tummy, your trimmed mound, and your honey drenched thighs.

"Oh, my, she is a sweet one," says Veronica. "Do you mind if I have a taste?"

She looks from your juicy little pussy to her friend.