Dinner

After you throw on a pair of shorts, you and Arwen both head up the stairs into a long hallway of the main house.

Arwen turns to head for a bathroom, clearly eager to wash the filth off of her.

You meanwhile, make for the dining room, and eventually enter to see your mother and sister there, dishing out portions of meatloaf for themselves.

You take a seat at the third and only remaining chair with a place setting in front of it, hardly sparing a thought to your absent father, whom is rarely around.

When you sit down, your mother immediately takes initiative, taking your plate and slicing you a generous portion along with multiple scoops of various side dishes.

Your mom jokes, “From the sounds echoing up the hall, I’m surprised you haven’t brought up a “friend” for under the table.” She shoots you a smile, and places your now loaded plate in front of you.

“Ughhh” across the table from you, your sister, an extremely athletic platinum blonde with braces, makes a groan of annoyance. “Bro you better not. seriously, my shin still hurts from when i got kicked by knife ears last time.”

“Really bitch?” You roll your eyes dramatically, “that was two weeks ago” using your fork you spear a hunk of meatloaf, along with a couple roasted broccoli.

She scowls, hissing out her words, “exactly, and it was even an accident. she’s stronger than she looks.” She roughly crams a multiple bite sized piece of meatloaf in her mouth, earning her a disapproving look from your mom.

For a moment there’s silence, until she swallows it down and continues, “-nguh, if one of those mods ever fails…” she makes a snipping motion with her fingers.

You shudder slightly before shaking your head, refuting her “that’s literally never happened, RealDreams microchips don’t just break down like that.”

You wolf down a few forkfuls of mashed potatoes before elaborating, “rumour has it, there’s so much exotic, extra-universal material in those things you get put on a watchlist if you buy too many. They’re lightweight and nearly indestructible, they don’t want people making armour out of them.”

She shakes her head, “Nuh-uh, remember a few months ago in the news, one of the pleasure toilets at the homeless shelter went berserk and began to-“

Your mother clears her throat loudly, giving you both an equally exasperated and amused look “Maya, James, not a dinner table topic.”

Silence overtakes the dining room for a time, before you break it with a final point “for the record, i heard the shelter was hiring some basement chop shop to save money.”

Maya opens her mouth to reply but is silenced with a glance from mom, and instead scowls and sticks her tongue out at you.

***

Some time later, after dinner, you take a large bowl from the cupboard and begin filling it with leftovers.

You line the bottom with a few scoops of still lukewarm mashed potatoes, before piling on top of that iced cold roast vegetables and a piece of meatloaf.

Thinking a moment, you also throw in two half eaten pieces, one from your second helping, and another from Mayas third.

You imagine Arwen must be long done her shower by now, and so you immediately make your way down the stairs with the food.

Reaching the bottom you look around in confusion for a moment, finding your apartment has been tidied of its accumulated mess.

Looking to her stasis pedestal, Seven is , as expected, still frozen in her compromising pose, and so Moving to the entertainment area you find Arwen sitting politely on the sofa, hands folded in her lap and knees together.

She looks up at you, and you can see her eyes are significantly less reddened, and the bruising on her chin is now barely visible, curtesy of her elven heritage.

Following your request to wear lingerie, she’s put on an extremely sheer light green robe, barely long enough to cover her ass and loosely tied at the front.

It wouldn’t cover anything at all if not for the intricate lace, dark green thong bodysuit she’s wearing underneath it.

In anticipation of your first character, for the months prior to your eighteenth birthday you went on a mad spending spree, loading your once mostly empty closet with all manner of sexy clothing in a number of sizes.

You vaguely recognize the bodysuit from your many purchases, and your suspicions are confirmed when she stands to address you, keeping one of her hands held over her exposed, easy access crotch.

Before she has the chance to say anything, you use your hand not clutching a bowl of food to move her arm away, revealing the open triangle of pink flesh and tuft of black hair amidst the green lace.

You see her delicate elven pussy is still a tender reddish pink, yet to fully recover from your earlier slapping.

Leaning down and running a finger upwards along her slit, you see Arwen tense, anticipating the worst.