And everything's ready for the night. Almost.

After getting two separate showers, you and Sarah get busy cleaning the apartment floor to ceiling, setting the table, and finally turning your attention to the kitchen corner;

"So... any ideas?" You ask, taking a mental note of the available ingredients;

"What do you mean bro?"

"What are we cooking?"

"Shit... did I mentioned she's vegetarian?"

"No, you didn't. And that takes out two of the three things I know how to make..."

"The third being?"

"Pbj's."

"Ah, right... I guess we could always order pizza?"

"Come on Sarah... If you invite someone over for dinner, you have to actually cook for them. That's like adulting 101."

She exhales, massaging her temples; "Fine. How about... chicken salad?" She offers, taking a look in the fridge.

"That's meat."

"I mean... It's white meat. It's like the diet coke of meats, no?"

"Nope. Still ****, diet **** at best." You chuckle.

"Then... omelettes?"

"Same thing I guess, depends on who you ask..."

She groans, "Ugh. Let's see you come up with something that isn't fucking tofu or soy-something." she snarls,

"Fine, scoot over; lemme see what we're workin' with..."

One hour and seven YouPube tutorials later, you two manage to come up with what smells like a decent marinara sauce and a bowl full of thin sticks of zucchini "pasta".

While working shoulder to shoulder in the cramped working space, chatting and joking lively, it strikes you how rare it has become for you to share a room with Sarah for more than half an hour without arguing, fucking, watching tv or ignoring each other.

The sudden knocking on the door jolts you back to reality.

"This must be her. I'll get the door, don't let the sauce stick to the pan." She perks up, cleaning her hands on a kitchen cloth.

"Yessir, boss." You nod absentmindedly, mocking an half assed military salute and taking over her stirring duty.

"Hey girl! Come on in, dinner's almost ready."

"Hi Sarah! Thanks for having me, mhm... smells wonderful, you really shouldn't have, just a pizza would have been fine."

Figures...

You turn to face your guest:

She's on the short side, bronze skinned, with an hourglass physique, long dark wavy hair kept in a wobbly bun, and somewhat mousy features than complement her prominent pierced nose, wearing square glasses that frame a pair of big brown green eyes that quickly meet your gaze.

"This is Liam." Sarah interjects, playing the dutyful host, "Liam, Layla."

"Nice to finally meet you! I kinda feel like I know you already, with how much Sarah told me much about you." She admits, smiling.

"Oh really? All bad things I hope," you grin.

"Not at all!" She flashes her pearly whites in a genuine laugh, straightening the folds of her flowy attire, composed of a loose buttoned shirt with just a hint of cleavage that barely reveals her generous breasts, and a pair of harem sweatpants stamped with a colorful, intricate geometrical pattern that resembles a mandala.

"Please, make yourself at home, I'll be done in a minute." you gesture towards the table.

As the girls sit down and engage in idle chat, you make the finishing touches to the meal, pouring a generous amount of sauce on the swirly boiled zucchini sticks in each plate and finally serving dinner to the gossiping beauties waiting behind you.

"Bon appetit, ladies..."

You all dig in your meal, which is not nearly as bad as you feared, and Layla is the first to spark a serious discussion, after you finish eating;

"So, how long have you guys been together?"

"Excuse me?" You frown in surprise, while Sarah almost chokes on her drink.

Layla winces,pursing her heart shaped lips, "Oops... sorry. I guess I struck a nerve, haven't I?" She scratches the back of her head with an embarassed smile.

"No... It's just that, well..." You scramble for a nicer way to explain the truth, while shooting Sarah an accusative stare that translates roughly to:

'The fuck have you told her?

"Oh, I get it... roommates with befenefits, right? Gosh, how I envy you, mine's a total prude, probably showers clothed too."

"Ehr... kinda. We're... we're legally siblings." Sarah stammers through her explanation, a hint of red coloring her cheeks.

Now is Layla's turn to frown, quickly darting her focus between the two of you, until realization hits her;

"Oh... I mean, who am I to judge, right?" She quickly recovers, turning her awed expression into a smile, "I'm just glad to have found someone else like me." She then turns her attention to you, "Sarah told me you're gonna join us tonight, so I just wanted to know if there were any boundaries, honest."

"Ah, right! I don't think I told you, but this is his first time in front of a camera, you know?" Sarah says, now relieved of the brief tension.

"Really? You guys have never..."

"Nope. You have no idea how many times I tried to convince this dummy..."

"Strange. She told me that you're quite...you know..." Layla makes an O with her fingers, prodding it with her other index while looking at you, "...competent."

Damn, you ask a lot of questions girl...

"Uhm... You could say that, i guess." You reply dryly, suddenly uneasy to speak so freely of what happens below your belt.

"He plays it straight, but trust me, he's a total slut once you whip it out. His girlfriend is huge too, actually puts ours to shame... pity she won't join us today, we would have made a killing." Sarah exclaims proudly, caressing your forearm.

Layla locks eyes with you, briefly putting her hand under the table, no doubt straightening more than her clothes; "Wow... I have to admit I'm getting pretty excited guys, do you mind if we skip the dessert and head straight for the second part of the evening?"

Sarah jumps up like a spring loaded toy, "Absolutely not! Come, gimme a minute to set up and we can start..." She looks at you impatiently, waving toward her room "What are you waiting for? We need to set you up too, you know."

"Gimme a second, I'm still way too sober for this." You slowly get to the counter as the girls walk in the other room, and take a big swig of vodka straight from the half empty bottle.

Here's to getting spitroasted for money...

You watch as they quickly get rid of their clothes and fold them on the office chair, giving their respective tools of ass destruction a few prodding strokes.

Here's to yet another stranger girl with a cock bigger than mine...

They share the big mirror by the desk, applying makeup and helping each other into a change of bras.

And here's to me, the hypocrite that keeps complaining but enjoys every minute of it...

You slam the now empty bottle on the counter, take a big breath and slap yourself a couple times in the face for good measure.

Let's get this bread.